Beginnings: The Tests of Youth
by Typothetical
Summary: Of friendship and betrayal, of love and laughter, of war and growing up. The Marauders' story – from the very beginning. Canon-compliant.
1. 1-1 or 'Tracks'

**Beginnings: The Tests of Youth**

 **Chapter 1 - 1.1 or "Tracks"**

The footprints, he supposed, would be worn into his carpet forever if he continued pacing in the same tracks. He had been at it for over an hour, ever since he had given up on his futile attempts at sleep. He felt as if he might burst from the excitement, and tossing around in his bed hadn't done anything to quell his anxiousness, so instead, he had unpacked and repacked his trunk three separate times, throwing apologetic looks toward the shining broomstick that seemed to be watching him jealously from its place in the corner. When that lost its allure, he had started pacing – a much more productive use of his time.

Today was the day he had been waiting for since before he could remember – since his dad had first told him all about the Great Hall and the Quidditch Pitch and the Forbidden Forest. It was the day he had tried to force upon his parents every September 1st for the past three years, when he would beg them to allow him to go, because, really, he could pass for eleven years old and nobody would know the difference. But today he was truly eleven years old, and today he would truly be going. Today might as well have been the first day of his life.

Today was the day that James Potter was finally going to Hogwarts.

He stopped pacing, deciding that it was late enough in the morning now and that he could trek downstairs to get some breakfast. He had never been an early riser and he didn't want his parents to cotton on to how nervous he really was. It wasn't until he had made his way to the top of the staircase that he heard angry whispers emanating up from the hall. James froze and then cautiously made his way down the first few steps, curious to know what his parents were arguing about – they never argued.

His mother was speaking in a tense, hurried voice. "There is absolutely no reason for you to tell him anything of the sort. All it would accomplish would be to put a dark cloud over the day for him!"

"He's got to know," his father replied calmly. "He's got to be on the lookout. You know what these people are like, and you know very well that they'll put their children on the lookout for him as well."

"You really think that they'll use their own children that way? As…as _spies_?"

"I wouldn't put it past them." His father's voice was low, a resigned bitterness lacing his tone. "The Rosiers, the Averys, the Blacks…they all have children starting this year. We've kept him as sheltered as possible, you know we have, Mia, but we're not going to be able to keep them away from each other now they're starting Hogwarts."

"You don't trust James to know right from wrong?" asked his mother angrily. "I'd say you should give us a bit more credit than that, Fleamont. We've been deliberate, certainly, but we haven't raised him in a vacuum."

"Of course I trust James. It's the other children I don't trust." He paused. "We won't tell him more than he needs to know, but he does need to at least be aware of the situation."

James heard his mother sigh, but when she spoke again, her voice lacked the anger it had harbored before. "Only what he needs to know. Don't go telling him anything that might scare him…"

"I'm not going to scare him, but, honestly, scary things are happening and he needs to be aware. My father –"

"You are _not_ going to tell him about your father!" his mother cut in sharply.

"Of course not," he said at once. "We're still not even sure what really happened. There's no need to worry James…"

Hidden on the staircase, James wondered what they were referring to. _"What really happened?"_ His grandfather had suffered heart failure only a few months prior and had died. James's house hadn't been the same since. Despite his grandfather being extremely old, James had been very close with him and devastated by the sudden loss. His parents had tried their hardest to make everything seem normal, but James had seen through their forced smiles and conversation. In fact, getting away from the gloomy aura of the house was only an added reason that James was so excited to be leaving. He loved his parents very much, but he didn't appreciate being treated like a child. He was, after all, eleven years old.

With this thought, James hopped his way down the remaining stairs and into view of his startled parents. "What would worry me?" he asked.

His mother hurried forward to coddle him, as she tended to do every morning. "James!" she said, pulling him into a hug and fruitlessly flattening his hair with her hand. "You're up! Did you sleep all right, dear? How long have you been awake?"

James, however, would not be swayed. He pulled away from her and looked curiously at his father. "What were you talking about? I heard you. You were saying something about Grandpa and how something would worry me." He did not fail to notice the anxious look his mother threw his father.

"Well, I guess we have no choice but to tell him then, Euphemia," his father said, frowning slightly. Then he turned to James and motioned toward the bottom step. "Sit down, son."

James obliged and looked up at his father expectantly. "What happened to Grandpa?"

His mother sat down on the stair beside him and rubbed his back as James's father spoke. "You know your grandfather was very, very old, James…older than just about anyone we've ever known. When his heart gave out, we were all saddened, of course, but it wasn't unexpected. He had been having trouble for years." He paused glancing at his wife. "Well, a few weeks ago, we got word that he may have been approached by some wizards before he died. Wizards who may have wanted his help with some dark magic."

"Grandpa wouldn't ever touch dark magic!" James argued. "He hated everything to do with dark magic!"

"We know, darling, we know," soothed his mother.

His father looked wary. "Your grandfather was a powerful wizard who stood up for what he believed in, James. In doing that, he angered some people who had different beliefs from him. It's possible that these sorts of people may approach you at Hogwarts, asking questions about you, about your Grandpa, about us."

"What sorts of questions?"

"Questions about our…political leanings." He paused as James's mother stood up suddenly and placed herself between James and his father.

"Can't you see now is not the time to do this?" she whispered as though trying to block James out of the conversation. "Today should be nothing but wonderful for him and now he's worried –"

James stood up too and pushed himself between his parents. "I'm not worried!"

Glancing between his wife and his son, James's father ran an agitated hand through his thick white hair and then gave James a crinkled smile. "Of course you're not. You're a Gryffindor, I'm sure of it."

"Where dwell the brave at heart!" James shouted, bouncing up and down a few times in excitement.

The old man put a steadying hand on his son's shoulder and James looked up at him, his smile faltering. "I just want you to be careful of who you become friends with and what you say to them, all right? Keep your eyes open," – he tapped the side of James's glasses – "keep your ears alert," – he pulled lightly at one of James's earlobes – "and keep that big brain of yours on your schoolwork," – he tapped his knuckles against James's untidy black hair.

James nodded and grinned before running off into the kitchen for a hearty breakfast. Nothing, nothing could put a damper on today for James Potter.

Today might as well have been the first day of his life.

There were bumps and thumps and excited shouts as students boarded the train outside of his compartment, but he refused to look up from the game of Exploding Snap he had laid out on the seat next to him. He had been ushered onto the train by his mother a good half-hour before anyone else had even arrived on the platform. After a vice-like grip on his shoulder and a pointed command of "Do _not_ disappoint us," she had disappeared with a crack, leaving Sirius Black alone to wrestle his school trunk onto the train and into the first compartment he saw.

Not that he minded. He was perfectly happy to be getting away from his mother and father – and, more specifically, his father's wand – though he was a bit sad to be leaving his younger brother behind. Regulus, though, had always had a better rapport with their parents than he himself had, and Sirius supposed, somewhat bitterly, that his brother would fare just fine for the year they were apart. He sighed, thinking that this time next year, Regulus would be sitting in this compartment with him, and Sirius would not have to play Exploding Snap against himself.

Already bored with his game, Sirius packed away his cards and sat in silence, fiddling with his wand nervously. He was very proud of his wand: 12 inches, cedar, with a core of dragon heartstring. Ever since he had got it at the beginning of the summer, he had been hiding in his room, secretly practicing all of the spells he had watched his parents and cousins cast for ages. He had even been able to practice dueling against Rabastan Lestrange one evening while their parents were ensconced in a dinner party; Sirius decided that night that shooting spells at Rabastan Lestrange was the only way he could tolerate the older boy's presence.

Excited voices from the platform outside drew his attention to the window. He watched a girl who looked a year or two older than him say goodbye to her mother and greet a group of friends with fervent squeals. She had long brown hair that touched her waist and was dressed in Muggle clothes. In fact, now that Sirius was paying attention, quite a lot of the students on the platform seemed to be dressed in Muggle clothes. It was a jarring sight, but the trousers and short-sleeved shirts certainly seemed to be more appropriate for the summer heat than the silk-lined robes his mother had insisted he don that morning. Sirius watched the brown-haired girl until she boarded the train out of sight.

His attention was then drawn by the unwelcome sight of the Avery family striding past his window. Sirius pulled his face back and tried to blend into the shadows. He had known Marshall Avery for years – the Blacks early on had decided that Marshall Avery would be an appropriate and acceptable friend for their eldest son and had thrust the boys together as if they were trying to arrange a marriage between the two. But Sirius had never much liked Marshall Avery, nor did he enjoy the company the Averys kept, and he had been actively avoiding the boy since an April night in London, which he tried not to think about.

He was saved from his thoughts when the door to his compartment banged open so loudly that he nearly fell out of his seat. He jumped up, hoping it was the girl he had seen on the platform. Instead, a small girl with shoulder-length red hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen poked her head in.

"Mind if I sit in here?" she asked unapologetically. She was clearly distracted and might even have been upset by something, though it was difficult for Sirius to tell.

He shrugged at her. "If you'd like."

She was struggling with her school trunk, which was about as big as she was, so he moved to help her pull it into the compartment and shove it onto the luggage rack. When it was safely stowed away, she sat down next to the window and peered out of it, her eyes clearly searching for something. Sirius wasn't sure whether he should say something to her, as she didn't seem remotely interested in talking to him. After a moment, however, she seemed to give up her search and turned to him almost apologetically.

"I'm Lily, by the way. Lily Evans."

Sirius reached across and shook her hand lightly. "Sirius Black."

"Sirius? That's seriously your name?" said Lily Evans.

He rolled his eyes. "Ha ha ha, you're so funny. Don't blame me. I didn't have much say in it. Could be worse though…my brother's name is Regulus."

"That's just sad," she said. "At least you can make jokes about your name."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Or other people can make them for me."

Lily sobered slightly. "Hmm, perhaps you're right." She then turned back to the window, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"You're a first year, are you?" asked Sirius, eyeing her curiously. She, too, was wearing Muggle clothes.

"What?" Lily asked, distracted, looking back at Sirius as though she had forgotten he was there. "Oh. Yes, how did you know?"

"You're titchy."

"I'm titchy?"

"Yes. You're no bigger than my house elf."

"Your house elf?"

"Are you sure you're eleven?"

"That's what they tell me. How old are you then?"

"Oh, I'm a first year too. I thought this day would never come."

"Yeah, Hogwarts sounds wonderful, from everything I've heard."

"I just can't believe I'm finally going to get away from my parents," said Sirius, his eyes glazing over a bit at the idea of freedom. Lily smiled at him, but Sirius could tell it was very forced. In fact, she looked like she might burst into tears. He couldn't figure out what he had said wrong. "What is it?" he asked.

Lily looked at him sharply and then shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of her former thoughts. "Oh, I'm sorry. Nothing's wrong. I just didn't have a very good send-off is all."

Sirius shifted, suddenly immensely uncomfortable, not knowing if she was going to cry or not. He had never been around a crying girl before.

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

Their moment was interrupted when the door to the compartment banged open once again. Quite relieved to have an excuse to change the subject, Sirius looked up at the new face. A thin boy with spectacles and jet black hair that stuck up in the back was attempting to drag his trunk into the compartment. A bronze cage containing a brown barn owl swung dangerously from one of the boy's elbows. He was sweating with the effort of maneuvering his trunk and balancing the cage, but finally managed to get everything stowed away before plopping down on the seat across from Sirius. Ignoring the irritated hoot from his disgruntled owl, the boy wiped his forehead with his sleeve and smiled widely at Lily and Sirius.

"Hi, you don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

Lily just stared at the boy, apparently too shocked by his presumptuous arrival to say anything at all. Sirius, however, had no trouble finding his voice. He smirked at the newcomer. "Gee, just make yourself comfortable."

The boy either did not pick up on the sarcasm or wasn't fazed by it. He grinned and started digging around in his robe pockets for something. "I'm James Potter, first year. What's your name?"

"Potter, huh? Yeah, I've heard of you. I'm Sirius Black."

James had pulled three chocolate frogs from his pocket but froze when Sirius introduced himself, eyeing the boy warily. Sirius picked up on his hesitation.

"Heard of me too?" James just looked at him. "Don't worry, I know my family's got a reputation." He shrugged and pointed at the pile of chocolate in James's lap. "Are you going to eat all of those?"

James handed him one reluctantly. "You can have it but you've got to give me the card if you get Bowman Wright. His card just came out last month and I've been looking for it since."

A whistle somewhere outside the compartment blew loudly and the train started slowly moving along the tracks as Sirius ripped into his chocolate frog wrapper. James looked across the compartment to where Lily was sitting. He smiled at her and handed her the third frog.

"What's your name?"

Lily seemed to shake herself out of a daze. She took the chocolate from him but didn't open it and cleared her throat softly before speaking. "Lily."

"Do you have a last name by chance, or what?"

"Oh. Evans."

"Nice to meet you, Oh Evans," James joked.

"I've got Cliodne," Sirius said, biting the head off of his frog and holding the card out to James. "She's a looker, eh?"

"Bother, I've already got two of her," James said, waving the card off and ripping into his own wrapper. "You can keep it if you want. Oh – sod it – Herpo the Foul." He curled his lip in distaste at the surly looking wizard on the card and then offered it to Sirius. "You want this one? I've already got him too."

"Nah," said Sirius, throwing his empty wrapper on the floor. "I got him about a month ago. My little brother was actually scared of that ugly git Herpo, so you know what I did? I used an Engorgement Charm and glued the card to the canopy above his bed during the night. He about wet himself when he woke up and saw Herpo the Foul glaring down at him in the dark."

James laughed loudly. "That's pretty good! You've been practicing Charms then? Have you been doing any dueling?"

"A bit," Sirius nodded. "I've got some shots in. You?"

James bobbed his head too. "My mate Stuart Bones – do you know him, he's a seventh year? – came by a few weeks back and we got some practice in, but other than that, it's just been me practicing with the house elves."

Neither boy seemed to even remember that Lily was in the compartment with them as they chatted animatedly about the different spells they had tried, and their conversation barely even faltered when the compartment door opened once more and a thin, twitchy boy slid past them to sit across from the girl.

"Oh yeah," James was saying, "Stu taught me about _Expelliarmus_ , but it's a mite hard to practice that one on a house elf, isn't it?"

"Know any jinxes, then?" Sirius asked.

" _Tarantallegra_ ," said James. "And that one was a laugh on old Flora, let me tell you. Even she found it in good fun, once her little elf feet had stopped tap-dancing across the sitting room floor."

Sirius laughed and was about to comment on the ludicrous image of his house elf Kreacher dancing when something the twitchy boy said to Lily seemed to catch James's attention.

"You'd better be in Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" James repeated, looking around at the pair in distaste. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

It was like a cold hand had gripped Sirius's insides. Slytherin, of course, was all he had ever heard about at home, or with his cousins, or with Marshall Avery and that group of boys. He swallowed hard. Unsmiling, he told James, "My whole family have been in Slytherin."

"Blimey, and I thought you seemed all right!"

And before he had really even considered the thought, a smile broke across Sirius's face. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

"Gryffindor!" roared James. "Where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad."

The boy next to the window made a noise like he was trying to stifle a snigger. They all stared at him.

"Got a problem with that?" asked James.

"No," said the boy, though there was an oily insincerity to his voice. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy."

It reminded Sirius at once of Avery and Lestrange and all the other gits his parents had tried to force upon him under the disguise of friendship. He curled his lip at the boy. "Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?"

James laughed heartily and a warm sense of approval found its way into Sirius's chest. Lily stood up and glared at the pair, pulling the twitchy boy up behind her.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

"Ooooh," Sirius mocked, happily stretching his legs across one of the newly vacated seats.

James tried to trip the boy as he left the compartment. "See ya, Snivellus!"

Sirius snorted with laughter, but the compartment door had barely snapped closed when it slid open once more and a girl with a round face and light brown hair stuck her head in. Behind her, a tall girl with long golden waves stood awkwardly, her hand gripping the handle of her school trunk.

"Are they leaving, then?" asked the first girl, nodding down the corridor at the retreating forms of Lily and Severus. "Mind if we sit in here? We got kicked out of the compartment we were in."

Sirius pulled his feet off the seat with a resigned sigh and nodded at her. James didn't look too thrilled with the interlopers, but jumped up to help the girls stow their trunks anyway.

"I'm Ev. Ev Linney," said the brunette. "And that's Gin," she nodded toward the other girl.

Sirius and James both introduced themselves cordially.

"Why'd you get the boot from your compartment?" James asked.

Ev shrugged. "We were there first, but then some older girls came in and said it was their compartment and to bugger off. We're only first years. I guess that's just how it goes, yeah?"

James frowned and Sirius got the distinct impression that no one had ever told James Potter to bugger off, first year or not. But this seemed to be the extent of James's interest in the girls, because he turned back to Sirius a moment later and the two continued their discussion of dueling and the spells they had tried until the food trolley stopped at their compartment around midday. The boys both bought enough snacks and candy to feed the whole train, and they happily shared with the two girls, who had kept mostly quiet for the ride.

Early afternoon, the sky grew darker and a light rain pattered against the train windows. The girl called Gin napped against the glass as the girl called Ev read through a stack of magazines. James and Sirius turned their discussion to Quidditch and their preferred teams (James – Wimbourne Wasps since the day he was born, Sirius – Pride of Portree, though only because that's who his Uncle Alphard supported, and Sirius himself never followed it too closely) and both of their experiences at the Quidditch World Cup the year before. James disappeared for a bit late in the afternoon to try and find his friend Stuart Bones, and it was only when he returned that the slamming of the compartment door roused Gin from her sleep. She stirred and looked up at the others, evidently confused as to where she had woken up. Sirius smirked at her expression and the way her hair was all matted up and stuck to the side of her face.

"Hogwarts Express…remember?" he said to her cheekily.

Her glassy blue eyes met his as she brushed her hair from her face and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? I could have sworn this was a circus tent."

Sirius just stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration.

"What did you say your last name was again?"

"I didn't."

"Well what's your last name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm interested."

She crossed her arms. "Well I'm not. Sorry to burst your bubble."

Ev sniggered at the response and threw down her magazine, finished with it. "Anyone want to play Exploding Snap?" she asked. Sirius stared at Gin, trying to get a read on her, but gave up as Ev began dealing the cards.

"So," said Ev, after a few rather listless rounds. "Potter and Black. I've heard of both of you. Purebloods through and through." She looked toward Gin. "What about you?" Gin hesitated, which did not go unnoticed by Ev. "Sorry," she said quickly. "You don't have to answer if you don't want. I was just trying to make conversation."

"It's okay," said Gin. "My mum's a Muggle-born witch."

Sirius dropped one of his cards. "Your mum's a Mudblood?" he asked, eyes wide.

James and Gin both yelled out in disgust at his remark and Ev fell off of her seat, causing the Exploding Snap cards to ignite and set her sleeve on fire. Sirius deftly shouted, _"Aguamenti!"_ and a stream of cold water doused the flames immediately. He grinned at his achievement, but his three companions were all still staring at him with revulsion.

"What's your problem, Black? Using that word!" James shouted.

"You think you're all great or cool or something, using foul language like that?" Gin snapped, her eyes flashing.

Sirius was lost. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You can't just go round calling people the M-word! That's like the worst bad word in the world," said James.

Sirius's mouth fell open. "Really? I didn't know that."

The compartment, which had been lively and fun throughout the day, was now filled with a thick tension. Ev picked herself up from the floor, shaking her wet sleeve, and narrowed her eyes at Sirius.

"I thought you were from a wizarding family? How could you not know that?"

Sirius's eyes darted between the others, utterly confused. James was still panting with anger and Sirius wondered if he had just destroyed the blossoming buds of their friendship with one simple word.

"I…I don't know. I mean, that's what everyone calls Muggle-borns where I'm from. I didn't know it was bad…"

James cut in. "It's not just bad, it's vile."

"And disgusting," added Gin indignantly.

"Yeah, and disgusting and uncivilized," James agreed, his voice harsh.

Sirius felt horrible, a disturbing thought taking hold of his insides. He had never heard anyone refer to a Muggle-born as anything but a 'Mudblood' before, usually with scorn and contempt. If he – a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – didn't know such an important rule about the wizarding world, what else didn't he know? How else had his parents and cousins corrupted him? He felt a surge of anger at the thought.

Swallowing, he turned to Gin. "I'm sorry, Gin," he said, truly meaning it. "I didn't know that was a bad word and I'll not use it again. I've just…I've never known anyone related to Muggles before."

Gin stared at him, as though attempting to size him up. When she didn't say anything, Ev cleared her throat and attempted to break the silence once more.

"That was a neat charm you did, Sirius, with the water."

He glanced back at Gin to see how she was reacting to the change of topic. She gave him a crooked smile and he felt some of the tension fade from the room.

"How'd you know how to do that spell?" she asked.

Sirius shrugged. "I've seen my parents do it plenty of times. It's not that hard."

James jumped up on his seat and started digging around in his trunk. After a second, he brandished his wand, his face full of excitement, and all thoughts of foul language seemingly forgotten, much to Sirius's relief.

"I want to try! Sirius, what's the incantation?"

" _Aguamenti_ ," Sirius told him, sitting up straighter to get a good view of the attempt.

"Wait a minute," interrupted Ev as James raised his wand in preparation. "Don't do it in here, you'll get all of our stuff all wet!"

Sirius and James shared a slightly irritated look and made to leave the compartment. As they stepped into the corridor, James muttered _"Girls…_ " under his breath and Sirius grinned. The girls stuck their heads out of the compartment door and they all watched as James raised his wand and pointed it down the corridor toward the door to the train car.

James screwed up his face in concentration, gave his wand a sort of funny wiggle, and cried, _"Aguamenti!"_ There was a beat of silence before anything at all happened, and then a hot pink bubble emerged from the tip of his wand. Sirius laughed and watched as the bubble meandered around the corridor. As luck would have it, the door to the train car slid open and the twitchy boy called Severus stepped through, stopping dead when he saw James and Sirius blocking the way. He was so intent on glaring at them that he was completely unaware of the bubble floating toward him until it touched his nose. He flinched suddenly, causing the bubble to wobble for a second on the end of his nose before disappearing with a pop.

James and Sirius roared with laughter as the suds cleared to show the boy now glaring at James, his nose indubitably neon pink. The laugher died down when they saw the way his dark eyes glittered with something malicious, something rivaling hatred toward James. Suddenly, he marched forward, his wand pointing at James's forehead.

"Apologize to me," he spat.

James had a look of disbelief on his face, but nevertheless glared back at Severus in disgust. "It was an accident. Where's your sense of humor?"

"Apologize," he growled back, "or I'll curse you so much you'll spend the first month at Hogwarts in the hospital wing."

James was now shaking with anger and indignation. "I should have guessed you'd be into the Dark Arts. It's always the ugly, slimy ones who are into that stuff, isn't it?"

Before Severus could reply, though, Sirius jabbed his wand into the pale flesh of the boy's neck. "I suggest you lower your wand and get out of our way, _Snivellus_ , before I make you."

At this point, several people from nearby compartments had stuck their heads out into the corridor like Gin and Ev, searching for the disturbance. Severus seemed to think better of retaliating with so many witnesses around. He pushed Sirius aside and marched down the corridor, disappearing with a sweep of his robes into a compartment at the far end of the car. James and Sirius looked at one another for a moment before they both burst into laughter.

"What a slimy git," James choked out, holding his stomach from laughing so much in such a short amount of time. They both turned to go back into their compartment, Gin and Ev moving aside to let them in.

Sirius closed the compartment door and sat down with a laugh across from James.

"Did you see the way his greasy pink nose ran away as soon as he was threatened?"

"What a coward!" James laughed.

Sirius couldn't have agreed more.


	2. 1-2 or 'Sorted'

**Chapter 2 - 1.2 or "Sorted"**

 _"Wow,"_ James breathed, his eyes wide behind his glasses. Sirius didn't acknowledge him, but simply stared – his mouth hanging open – at the castle that loomed in front of them, every window glittering with light.

The boys had been ushered into a small boat by a huge man with a warm smile. The other two boys in the boat, who they had learned were called Peter Pettigrew and Phillip Maloney, sat with them, staring up in awe at the castle they had all heard so many stories about. The rain was light and felt good on their skin, like a fine, cooling mist. The heat was bearing down on Sirius, making him long for the skies to open and pour down onto them for true relief.

But he had a better idea.

"Hey, Potter, I dare you to jump in the lake."

Every eye in the boat snapped to Sirius, who felt his heart speed up at the thought of doing something so daring, something that surely would have gotten him into a world of trouble at home. But he wasn't at home. He was at Hogwarts, and he wouldn't have to worry about his mother's shouting or his father's wand until Christmas. The dare was a freedom he had never known before, and he liked the feel of it on his tongue.

James, though, was not the one who answered. _"What?"_ said Peter Pettigrew, a fat little boy with light hair and watery eyes. "Why would we jump in the lake? I don't even know how to swim!"

"Excuse me," said Sirius coldly. "Was I talking to you? No. I was talking to Potter, so sod off." Peter Pettigrew shrank backward, shrugging his shoulders in a way that suggested innate submissiveness. Sirius looked to Phillip Maloney to see if he would be challenged on that front as well, but Phillip Maloney just seemed confused, so Sirius turned back to James. "Well, Potter? What say you? A dare's a dare."

"No way!" said James, looking at Sirius as though he were mental.

"What, are you _scared_ or something?" challenged Sirius, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

"No!" James said quickly.

"Oh c'mon, Potter. I thought your family was all Gryffindors…aren't Gryffindors supposed to be _brave_? And you won't even jump into a little lake."

James swelled up a bit at the insult. "If you're so great, why don't you jump in yourself, Black?"

Sirius's grin widened and he shrugged casually. The next second there was a splash, followed by several screams from the boats around them, and Sirius's head was bobbing in the dark water. He was laughing so hard he practically choked on the water lapping against his face.

"Come on James! Where's your sense of adventure?" he called from right next to the boat.

James looked at the huge man that was coming toward them in his boat, clearly agitated with Sirius's foray into the water. He looked back at Sirius Black's laughing face.

He stowed his glasses safely in his pocket, took a deep breath, and dove into the lake.

Sirius let out a whoop of laughter as the girls in the nearby boat shrieked again and poked their heads over the edge to peer at them. The giant man was coming toward them fast, and he was yelling something now. "Oi! You two! Get outta that water!"

But Sirius and James had started to swim toward the shore, weaving in and out and underneath the boats, making sure to splash that boy Snivellus as they swam by, laughing when they came up for air. The water was suddenly much more shallow, or the shore was much higher, because they soon felt their feet hitting the rocks, and then they were on the shore, waiting as the boats drew nearer, watching the giant bellowing at them, feeling the cool water weigh down their brand new school robes and drip into their eyes from their hair and misty rain.

And when the other boats reached the shore, Peter Pettigrew and Phillip Maloney clambered out, Peter looking at them in awe and admiration and Phillip laughing timidly at them. The giant was taking them up to the castle, each of his enormous hands holding onto the scruff of their necks. They glanced at each other, holding back laughs, and an unspoken understanding passed between the two of them.

No matter what happened, they had already shared an adventure, and it had been totally worth it.

The giant man released James for a second to knock three times on the enormous wooden door to the castle. His hand was back, holding James's collar, when the door swung open to reveal a strict-looking witch with dark hair tied tightly on the back of her head. She surveyed the group of first years that stood timidly behind the giant and then her sharp eyes fell on James and Sirius, who stood in the man's clutches, both sopping wet.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant in his booming voice. "Had a bit o' trouble with these two 'ere. They thought it'd be a laugh to take a dip in the lake."

Professor McGonagall's mouth narrowed into a very thin line indeed when she heard this news. Sirius gulped, thinking that this was someone whose bad side he probably should not have gotten on already.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said. "I shall take them from here." She gave a sharp look to both Sirius and James before turning and leading the group of first years into the entrance hall, which was the biggest room that Sirius had ever seen, and then into a smaller chamber off of the hall.

McGonagall stopped and addressed the group. "In a moment, you will all be taken into the Great Hall and sorted into your houses. For those of you who are unaware, Hogwarts is host to four houses – Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. You will be sorted into one of these houses, which will grow to become something like your family over the next seven years. At the end of the school year, the House Cup is awarded to the house that has the most points, which can be awarded to you or taken from you by staff members and prefects. I would hope that you will all strive to make your houses proud, whichever they may be."

Sirius looked around. Most of his classmates were watching McGonagall nervously. A small boy in the back actually looked like he might pass out from the anxiety. Ev and Gin were a few steps away from him, both staring intently at the professor. Behind them, Lily and Severus stood next to one another, the latter's nose still brilliantly pink and Lily's eyes flickering to it in concern. On the other side of them stood Marshall Avery, flanked by two boys Sirius knew called Rosier and Mulciber. Sirius averted his gaze quickly and turned back to McGonagall.

"You will wait here until we are ready for you," said McGonagall brusquely. Her eyes then landed on James and Sirius, neither of whom had received any new information from her speech, but who were both dripping puddles of lake water onto the stone floor. With a slight flare of her nostrils, she waved her wand and both of their robes were dried immediately. She lowered her voice as the rest of the students broke into nervous whispers. "I will deal with the two of you later, once you are properly sorted," she said, before turning and starting to exit the room. Her progress stopped, however, when she saw Severus sporting his bright pink nose. Sirius nudged James in the side and pointed at them, trying to stifle his laughter.

McGonagall was talking quietly to the boy as the rest of the first years looked on curiously. The laughter from the students became louder and louder as more of them seemed to notice the color of the boy's nose. Sirius watched as McGonagall tapped her wand and Severus's nose returned to its normal hue. McGonagall turned and looked sternly at James and Sirius before sweeping out of the room.

James let out a breath and looked at Sirius. "Reckon any first years have got in trouble before even getting to the school before?"

Sirius wasn't too frazzled by the idea, though. He shrugged. "What really can they do to us? We just jumped in the lake. It's not like we flipped all the boats or anything."

"We should have flipped Snivellus's," said James, his eyes narrowed at the twitchy boy, who was still getting odd looks from the other students.

Sirius also turned to look and laughed. "Snivellus the pink-nosed nutter. I like it."

Peter Pettigrew was standing next to the pair, listening intently to every word they said. He finally spoke up in a nervous, squeaky voice. "What houses do you want to be in?"

James and Sirius looked at him, both a bit shocked at how close he was standing to them. James took a step back and gave the boy, in Sirius's opinion, far too generous a smile. "Gryffindor. My dad and grandpa were in Gryffindor. If I'm not sorted into Gryffindor, I'm leaving."

Peter's eyes widened. "You're leaving? Really?"

James just laughed. "I'll swim right back across the lake if I have to."

Peter looked at him in awe and then turned to Sirius. "What about you, Sirius? What house are you going to be in?"

Once again, Sirius grew uncomfortable with the question, but brushed it off nonchalantly. "My whole family's been in Slytherin…I don't think any Black has ever been in anything but Slytherin, but who knows." He paused, feeling hopeless all of a sudden, and then turned back to James. "I hope I'm not with Snivelly, though. I doubt there'd be much extra space in whatever room he's in. Not only would you have to share it with him, you'd have to share it with his giant pink nose too."

James burst into laughter. Peter was looking around curiously and then started telling James reverently all about how his father had been a Hufflepuff and his mother had been a Ravenclaw, but he wanted to be a Gryffindor too, really, he always had.

Sirius tuned him out. It was true that all of his family had only ever been Slytherins. That certainly was what was expected of him as well. But he had had more fun with James Potter in the past few hours than he had ever had with anyone in his life, and he desperately wanted to be in the same house as him. Sirius's family always spoke of Slytherin with such pride and passion, but he had never found himself interested in what they were interested in. Besides, his family also used the word 'Mudblood,' and he hadn't known that was odd until the train ride. Maybe being in Slytherin was like that, too.

He realized when James started poking him in the side that the group of students was now forming a queue and exiting the room. He fell in behind Phillip and a sharp pang of nerves flittered through his stomach as the group paraded into the Great Hall. He hadn't even had time to consider being anything other than a Slytherin and it was almost time to be sorted. As he stood in front of the rest of the school, every face turned toward the new students, he attempted to dry his sweating hands inconspicuously on his robes, though it didn't seem to do any good.

Professor McGonagall was placing a very old hat atop a three-legged stool that sat in front of them. Everyone was staring at the hat, so Sirius stared too. When the brim of the hat opened and burst into song, James caught Sirius's eye and the two had to force themselves not to laugh.

The hat was telling them all about how Slytherins were so cunning and ambitious and Sirius wondered whether he was either of those two things. He had never given any thought to his future or to power or anything of the sort. The hat went through Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, singing about intelligence and loyalty and bravery, but Sirius didn't feel any of those things either. At the moment, the only things inside of him were nerves and a hearty amount of confusion.

The song ended and everyone applauded loudly. Professor McGonagall once again stepped up in front of the first years and began speaking. "When I call your name, you will step forward and place the hat on your head."

That's all he had to do. Sirius relaxed a bit. He just had to place the hat on his head and sit down. The hat would tell everyone that he was a Slytherin and he'd go to the Slytherin table and sit next to his cousins and Rabastan Lestrange and he'd be just like the rest of his family. Everything would be green and silver. Everything would be safe and sound. Everything would be as it was expected to be. He was going to be a Slytherin.

And with that thought, his heart sank to his toes. Maybe he really _didn't_ want to be a Slytherin. Oh, why hadn't he thought about this before?

Professor McGonagall called out the first name, "Avery, Marshall," and Sirius's eyes snapped to the boy who stepped away from the group and sat down on the stool. He had brown hair and a pinched face, and he wore a sneer on his lips as if this whole sorting business were a waste of his valuable time. The whole school watched as the hat dropped over his eyes. Barely a moment passed before the hat screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius gulped. It was unsurprising, of course it was. He'd be a Slytherin with Marshall Avery. Maybe they'd clear the air about what had happened in April, maybe Sirius could punch the boy in the jaw and that'd be that and they could be friends again. But he watched as Avery sidled over to the Slytherin table and sat next to his cousin Narcissa and a small gaggle of her male admirers, and a bubble of dislike for all of them seemed to rise up in Sirius's throat, threatening to choke him. He forced himself to turn and watch as "Balini, Adin," a pretty girl with dark, silky hair placed the hat over her eyes. After about thirty seconds, the hat screamed out "GRYFFINDOR!" and the table to Sirius's right erupted in cheers.

He watched as the Gryffindors clapped and smiled at Adin Balini when she joined them. They all seemed much friendlier than the Slytherins, but maybe that was just because the Slytherins who Sirius knew _weren't_ very friendly.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the way his heart pounded in his ears when he heard McGonagall call out, "Black, Sirius."

Shoulders thrown back, he walked steadily to the stool and sat down on it. The last thing he saw before the hat fell over his eyes was a view of the Slytherin table, where every face was straining to get a good look at the latest Black child to come to Hogwarts. Every set of ears at that table was expecting to hear the word "Slytherin" roared out by the hat.

But all Sirius heard was a little voice in his ear. The hat seemed to be talking to him.

"Another Black, eh? Well I think I know where to put you… but wait, there's something here that I've never seen from the rest of your family. Something unique. Loyalty, oh loyalty beyond measure that has yet to be explored. But Hufflepuff is not the house for you. And you have the potential to be one of the brightest students to pass through these doors. You're well beyond your years in terms of magical knowledge. But, no, Ravenclaw is not the place for you."

He closed his eyes, despite the inside of the hat being dark anyway. He didn't like it telling him what he would do or what he could be good at. He just wanted it to tell him which table to go sit at. He just wanted to be off this stool, wanted his mind to rest, wanted to prove himself to James and Snivellus and Avery and even that Peter Pettigrew. He wanted to find that girl he had seen on the train platform and to make her laugh. He wanted to get off the stool. He wanted to learn magic and explore and go on adventures with James. He wanted….

He wanted to be a Gryffindor.

It came to him like a bolt, hitting him so hard upside the head that he swayed slightly on the stool. He wanted to be different from the rest of his family. He wanted to make a name for himself and not be just another Black heir.

The hat must have felt his epiphany, for it wasn't a second later that it roared out for everyone to hear, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius grinned and yanked the hat off of his head. The applause that rang throughout the hall was scattered. The Slytherin table looked utterly stunned. He looked toward his cousin Andromeda, a seventh year, who was smiling slightly, her eyebrows raised. A few seats down, Narcissa was gaping at him, astonishment pulling at her beautiful, haughty features. He dared a look up at the Head Table, where only a few of the professors clapped, including Professor Dumbledore. The rest of the staff simply stared at him, their eyes wide.

And as he walked to the Gryffindor table, Sirius felt happier than he could ever remember.

He sat down next to Adin Balini and smiled at her. The sorting had continued, but he barely paid attention as "Cagle, Emily" became the first Ravenclaw. The hat was spitting out houses left and right, but Sirius was so ecstatic that he was sitting with the Gryffindors that he didn't even pay attention until "Evans, Lily" was called.

Sirius watched Lily as she walked toward the stool. Her walk was confident, and before the hat fell over her eyes, Sirius glimpsed the amount of determination in them.

It didn't take long at all before the hat suddenly shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" for all to hear. The Gryffindor table erupted with cheers as Lily practically ran toward the table. Sirius moved over to make room for her, but she sat down across from Adin Balini instead, smiling at the other Gryffindors while completely ignoring Sirius.

The table once again exploded with cheers as Jonathan Goomer became another new Gryffindor. Several other first years had been sorted and Sirius was just starting to wonder what they'd have for dinner when "Leigh, Ginuine," was called. A few whispers fluttered across the hall and Sirius looked up in time to see the girl from their train compartment sitting straight-backed on the stool, her chin high in the air, her eyes avoiding everyone else's.

Adin leaned over and whispered, "Her name is _Ginuine Leigh_? Are you serious?"

Lily's ignoring of Sirius was clearly not persistent enough to miss such an obvious opportunity. "I'm not but he is," she said, smirking and nodding toward him. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Funny, Evans. You're just one big ball of wit. Have you got it out of your system now? Can we not make jokes about my name for the next seven years?"

But Lily had evidently gone back to ignoring him. She was staring at Gin, who was still hidden beneath the hat. "What kind of nutter parents name their kid Ginuine Leigh?" she asked Adin. "That's just asking for ridicule."

Adin's answer was interrupted when the hat bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Gin walked over to the clapping table, carefully avoiding Sirius's smirking face. She sat down on the opposite side of Adin and looked back up toward the hat, where "Linney, Evilee," now sat. Sirius arched his neck around Adin to get a look at Gin, but she seemed set on staring at the sorting taking place. When Ev was announced to be the next Hufflepuff, Gin deflated a bit, but still avoided Sirius's eye.

"Lupin, Remus," was called. Sirius watched as the anxious-looking boy he had noticed in the previous room made his way to the stool and sat down. He was pale and thin with dark circles under his eyes and light brown hair that was very neatly combed. He looked ill, but Sirius wondered if he was just nervous. He sat there, fidgeting with his fingers, until the hat announced him a Gryffindor. He smiled and walked over to the table, where he sat next to Jonathan Goomer, a little ways down the bench from Sirius.

Phillip Maloney became a Ravenclaw, and Sirius became more and more antsy as they moved toward the P's. Mary Macdonald and Raeanne Muller both became fellow Gryffindors and made a beeline for where Jonathan and Remus sat. When Peter Pettigrew was named a Gryffindor, however, he sat down right next to Sirius. Sirius didn't have much time to think about him, though, as James Potter had just been called to the stool.

James walked up, a confident grin on his face. A few whispers broke out through the hall about his surname. Many Slytherins craned their necks to see him, but they didn't have much of a chance to hope he would join their table. The hat had barely touched the hair that stuck up on the back of his head when it cried out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius clapped louder than anyone as James rushed toward them, stopping only to high-five a burly seventh year a little ways down the table. He threw himself onto the bench across from Sirius and did not even seem to notice when Lily Evans turned completely away from him.

Sirius grinned at him. "Nicely done."

"Cheers," said James. "And you thought you might've been a nasty old Slytherin. Puh," he scoffed, before turning toward Adin, whom he seemed to recognize. "Balini," he said, nodding politely.

"Hi James," Adin said. "Congratulations. You're dad'll be proud, I reckon?"

"Of course," James grinned. "Not that there was ever any doubt."

Several more students had their turns before "Snape, Severus" was called to the stool. He walked up to the hat with his shoulders hunched and a curtain of greasy dark hair in his eyes. James and Sirius started sniggering so loudly that several older students gave them strange looks. Lily was concentrating so hard on Snape's sorting that she didn't even seem to notice their laughter.

By the time the hat decided on "SLYTHERIN!," Sirius had his head down on the table he was laughing so hard.

"What's so funny?" Adin asked James, but both boys ignored her.

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Sirius took a deep breath and looked up at James. "Bloody hell, I'm glad I'm not a Slytherin with that git. He'd probably try to curse me for breathing too loudly or something."

Snape sat down at the Slytherin table next to an older student who Sirius recognized as Lucius Malfoy and threw a look of pure loathing at James and Sirius, who were both bent over from laughing so hard.

After what seemed like an eternity, "Wilkes, Halden," was made the last Slytherin, and the hat and stool were taken away by Professor McGonagall. The applause and chatter faded out as Albus Dumbledore stood up from his seat. As soon as he was in front of them, his bright blue eyes sweeping the room, Sirius felt at peace. The kindness and power that was emanating from the headmaster was undeniable. Sirius wondered briefly why his parents had always spoken about Dumbledore with such disdain.

"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he said. "I have a few notices to address, but I can hear your stomachs growling from here and my words would be a poor substitute for food. So I will tell you all to _enjoy_."

He clapped his hands once and more food than Sirius had ever seen appeared on each table. Many of the first years gasped, but this seemed to be commonplace, as the older students all smiled and simply started digging in. Mouth watering, Sirius piled his plate with anything and everything he could reach, thrilled to be able to eat freely without the proper decorum his parents insisted on at dinner in Grimmauld Place. No father to growl at him to sit up straight, no mother to slap his hand when he used the wrong spoon for his soup. He shoveled a giant pile of mashed potatoes into his mouth and almost laughed giddily at the thought.

All of them were so intent on curbing their hunger that it was a few minutes until any of them spoke. Sirius looked to his left, where Adin Balini sat, brushing her dark brown hair behind her ear as she munched on some carrots. He grinned at her.

"I'm Sirius Black, by the way."

She looked up from her carrots and smiled brightly at him. "Yeah, I know who you are." She looked at James. "I think all the first years do now, James, I heard Emily Cagle talking about you before the sorting. I can't believe you jumped into the lake!"

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius. "It seems our reputations precede us. Which one is Emily Cagle again, Adin?"

Adin looked annoyed. "You've met her before, James, don't you remember at that New Year's ball my parents threw last year?" She pointed at a small blonde girl at the Ravenclaw table. "Emily was there."

James turned to look at the direction of her point and then shrugged back at her. "Only thing I remember from that party was being bored out of my socks."

Adin rolled her eyes and turned to Lily. "I really like your necklace, where did you get it?"

Neither James nor Sirius cared much about the conversation as the girls started chatting about jewelry. James was gnawing on a chicken leg when he looked at Sirius. "You going to try out for the Quidditch team?"

Before Sirius could answer, though, Peter chirped up. "I thought first years weren't allowed on the teams?"

"Nah, if they're good enough, they can get on the team. First years just aren't allowed brooms, which I think is a crock, but there's nothing to be done about it."

The conversation was interrupted when the burly boy James had high-fived appeared behind him, clapping him on the shoulder and grinning down at him.

"Well done, James," said the boy. "I'm sure there's a school owl being sent out with the results to your parents as we speak. Your dad'll be thrilled."

Sirius felt his stomach flip horribly. His parents would be finding out that very night that he had been made a Gryffindor. His mother's last words to him – "Do _not_ disappoint us!" – surged through his head and he reached up to pull instinctively at the collar of his robes. What would they do when they discovered that their oldest son, the heir to the family fortune, had been sorted into the house they despised? He did not think disappointment would be a strong enough word to encompass their reactions.

"– and this is Sirius Black!"

Sirius pulled himself from his disconcerting thoughts and looked up when he realized James was introducing him to the older boy.

"Oh, hullo," said Sirius, reaching over the table to shake the boy's large hand.

"Stuart Bones," the boy introduced himself. "And are you quite sure you're a Black? I thought your lot was Slytherin all the way."

Sirius swallowed and shrugged at him. "I must've tricked that old hat somehow. I did bathe this morning, you know…maybe I wasn't greasy enough for it to assume I was a Slytherin."

Stuart Bones laughed loudly. "That's the spirit," he said, giving Sirius an approving nod before turning to walk back to his spot down the table. "You'll fit in just fine round here, I reckon."

"Stu's on the Quidditch team," James told him proudly once the boy was gone. "A Beater."

"How do you know him?"

"Oh, his grandparents are my parents' best mates, so our families are always spending holidays together and the like. His brother Eddie's absolutely brilliant, I tell you. But he's done with Hogwarts, finished a few years back. He was Quidditch Captain for a while."

"Are you going to try out for the team, James?" asked Peter.

James had now moved on to some black pudding. He nodded at Peter. "Definitely. I love flying. My dad put in a Quidditch pitch a few summers ago and I've been practicing every day since then." He turned back to Sirius. "What about you, Sirius?"

Sirius had only been flying a few times when he had been staying with his Uncle Alphard. He shrugged. "Oh…I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

James nodded, but looked slightly disappointed nonetheless. Peter started rambling about how he had only ever played Quidditch once, but he had caught the Snitch in three minutes before falling off of his broom. Sirius barely listened. He had spotted the brunette from the train platform sitting at the end of the table. He watched her nibble on her dinner and talk to several of the girls sitting around her, her long brown hair cascading down her back. He closed his mouth, hoping no one had noticed that he had been gaping like an idiot.

* * *

The pudding trays were miraculously empty and Lily Evans thought that she might never need to eat again by the time the fifth-year prefects called for the first years to follow them through the castle. Despite her best attempts, she had not even been able to catch Severus Snape's eye during dinner; he had kept his head turned staunchly away from the Gryffindor table as he had listened to the conversation around him. She wanted to talk to him. She needed to talk to him. But before she knew what had happened, she had been shepherded out of the Great Hall and up a magnificent marble staircase and had lost sight of the Slytherins completely.

"It's truly unbelievable, isn't it?" said the girl called Adin Balini, mistaking Lily's neck-craning attempts to spot the Slytherin as a fascinated interest in the castle surrounding them.

"Oh," Lily said, caught off-guard. She looked around at the row of portraits that hung on the corridor wall. All of the painted occupants seemed to be raising a toast to them. "Yes, yes it is."

"My mum told me this morning before I got on the train to remember it all," Adin told her as the group began climbing a narrow staircase. "She said her first night at Hogwarts is one of her most cherished memories in the world and that I should take it all in." She gave a huge yawn and then grinned at Lily. "But I'm so tired I'm not sure I'll remember any of this tomorrow morning."

Though tired herself, Lily decided then and there to not worry about Severus again that evening. She would be able to talk to him in the morning, she was certain, and she surely didn't want to allow the pall of their divisive sorting to dampen what should be a happy memory for her. The day, all in all, had not gone well. She should do what she could to salvage the end of it.

The prefects stopped in front of a portrait of an overweight woman wearing a pink dress, who smiled down at them all. The girl prefect, who had introduced herself as Hestia Jones, turned to look at the small group of curious first years.

"This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The password is 'Amortentia,' but it changes regularly, so make sure you know it before leaving the portrait hole, or you won't be allowed back in."

The male prefect, a curly-haired boy by the name of Newlyn Gallit, turned to the portrait and told the fat lady the password. She winked at him before swinging open. The first years clambered in.

If Lily had thought she had felt at home in the Great Hall, it was nothing compared to how she felt when she entered the Gryffindor common room. The circular room was covered in red and gold arm chairs and cushions. Study tables lined the walls. The windows were large and covered the walls so that she could see the stars and the moon quite easily from where she was standing. The fire roared unnecessarily on the hot night, but she didn't mind, as it gave off a sense of comfort and coziness that she never thought she could feel in such a short time and she drank it in, wanting it to wash over her after such a long and trying day.

She watched as Newlyn led the boys up the staircase on the left. The girls were following Hestia up the one on the right and she hurried to catch up.

"It turns into a slide if a boy tries to climb it," Hestia was saying. "Apparently, the founders found boys to be less trustworthy than girls. Supposedly there's a way around it, but nobody that I know has ever discovered it," she added with a grin.

Adin raised her eyebrows at the prefect. "But we can still get up their staircase?"

Hestia just laughed and opened the door that had a sign on it reading 'First Years.' "If you can stand the smell, I guess," she said with a wink.

Lily followed Adin into the circular tower room and was shocked to find that her trunk was already at the foot of a handsome four-poster bed.

"Get some sleep tonight, girls," Hestia told them. "Tomorrow's the first day of lessons and you want to be on your toes for them, I promise." She left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

The first thing Lily did was take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh, her feet throbbing with exhaustion. The second thing she did was pop open her trunk and pull out the worn, stuffed unicorn named Cobb that her father had given her years ago. There was a nagging temptation to crawl into her bed at that very moment, to pull the red velvet curtains that hung around the four-poster closed and to hide from the world. But as Adin said, it was their first night, and it was worth an effort. She tucked Cobb against her, looked around at the four other girls who she would be spending the next seven years with, and she decided that being social on this night trumped anything else – even sleep.

Adin was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a Cheshire grin on her face as she watched the other girls begin to unpack their trunks. "Okay, okay," she said, and the others all stopped their movements to look up at her, "I think introductions need to be made. No sleeping until we all know something about one another."

One of the girls, who had light brown hair pulled back into a thick ponytail, smiled at Adin from across the room and then went back to tacking up a powder blue poster above her bed.

"See?" said Adin, jumping off her bed to walk closer to the girl. "I already know something about you now and you haven't even said anything. You're an Arrows fan!"

"Arrows fan and proud of it," said the girl, admiring her poster before turning to Adin. "I'm Raeanne Muller."

Lily stared at the poster, which showed a group of wizards in blue robes zooming around on broomsticks. Severus had told her about the wizarding sport Quidditch, though he had spoken of it derisively and said only the numbskulls were interested in it. But Raeanne Muller didn't look like a numbskull to Lily.

Adin, too, was looking closely at the poster. "I'm Adin Balini," she said, somewhat distractedly. She pointed at one of the wizards. "And that Arrow is rather good-looking, isn't he?"

Raeanne grinned and nodded. "Jedidiah Cuffe. He was just picked up by the squad last year."

"I don't follow Quidditch," said Adin, hopping back over to her own bed. "But maybe I'll start if more players look like that! My little sister's a Puddlemere supporter, and she'll be coming to Hogwarts next year…"

The girl opposite Lily with a blonde plait down her back interrupted her. "How do you know?"

Adin stared, clearly confused by the question. "How do I know what?"

"Sorry, I was just curious as to how you know that your sister will get into Hogwarts?" the girl said softly.

Adin still looked confused. "Because why wouldn't she? No one in my family has ever not gone to Hogwarts."

The girl blushed and looked down at her fingers. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know that's how it worked. I thought everybody waited for their letter to find out." She paused a bit awkwardly before giving Adin a cautious smile. "I'm just a bit out of the loop, I guess. I didn't even know Hogwarts existed until I got my letter last month."

Lily had the urge to hug the girl. Severus had told her that being Muggle-born didn't matter, but everyone else already seemed to know everything, and this roommate of hers was the only other Muggle-born she had yet met.

"Don't worry, I'm Muggle-born too," Lily said, smiling kindly at the girl. "My name is Lily Evans."

Relief flushed the girl's face as she looked at Lily. "Thanks. I'm Mary Macdonald."

"Well we'll just have to figure out this place together, won't we?" said Lily.

Raeanne paused in digging through her trunk and looked up at them, startled. "Hey now, I'm from six generations of witches and wizards, I have a brother in third year and a brother in fifth year, and I still have no idea about this castle!"

"Yeah, me either, come to think of it," said Adin.

Lily laughed and hugged Cobb more tightly against her stomach. "Well good then, we're all on the same page."

"Raeanne," said Adin, grinning widely, "you didn't stop talking to that Gryffindor boy all evening! Who was that?"

"Oh, that's Goomer." Raeanne waved a dismissive hand. "He's lived down the street from me for forever. Our parents are friends, so we've grown up together."

Adin seemed quite intrigued by this bit of information. "Really? Is he your boyfriend?"

Raeanne wrinkled her nose in distaste as she extracted some pajamas from her trunk. "Ew, no way!"

"Well good," said Adin, flopping back on her bed dramatically. "That leaves him for one of us!"

Lily giggled at Adin's audacity, though she had no interest in Jonathan Goomer, and hadn't even noticed which one he was. She turned to look at the girl called Gin, who she had met at dinner, but who had remained fairly quiet throughout. She was lanky and blonde and was sitting on her bed with all her limbs crossed, watching the other girls as if slightly entertained.

"What about you, Gin? Are you from a wizarding family?"

Gin opened her mouth to respond when Adin sat up suddenly and cut her off. "Wait a minute, first you need to tell us about your name."

"What do you mean?"

Raeanne and Mary, both in the middle of changing into their pajamas, froze and looked up at the two girls.

"I mean is your name _really_ Ginuine Leigh?"

"Well I sure hope so, or else I've been answering to the wrong name my whole life," she said, her expression mildly annoyed.

Adin looked taken aback. She leaned over the end of her bed to start digging through her trunk. When she looked up again, her eyes were apologetic.

"Sorry, I just had never heard of anyone named that before. And when you say it all together, it sounds like…"

"Yeah, I know, don't worry about it," mumbled Gin. "My mum's a bit barmy."

Lily laughed and looked at Mary. "So many people here have the most unique names, don't they? That prefect's name was _Newlyn_ and I sat with a boy on the train called _Sirius -_ "

Adin popped up again, excited once more. "Oooh you sat with Sirius Black? He sat next to me at dinner and he is so cute!"

The other girls just rolled their eyes and laughed as they finished changing, taking turns to use the lavatory and listening to Adin prattle on about all the cute boys she had seen. And when Adin's voice had faded out and the only sound in the room was the deep breathing of her slumbering roommates, Lily stared up at the canopy above her, her mind whirring. She thought of Severus and wondered where he was at the moment in such a vast castle, wondered whether he had made an effort to be social, wondered if his roommates were as nice as hers.

And then, for the first time in hours, Lily allowed her mind to wander to her sister Petunia, and it felt as if a deep hole opened in her chest, threatening to swallow her up. Her sister, with whom she used to jump streams and play dolls and fight over who got to lick the pudding spoon. Her sister, who would let Lily kip on the floor of her room after a nightmare, but never in the bed with her. Her sister, who had stood on the train platform that very morning, and had called Lily a freak instead of hugging her goodbye.

Lily had not asked for this. She had not asked to be whisked off to a magical school with an enchanted ceiling and trick staircases and handsome four-poster beds. She had not asked for the ability to do magic any more than Petunia had asked for the ability to do up her hair in perfect pin curls. She felt as if she would fall asleep and wake up tomorrow in her creaky old bed in Cokeworth, the castle and the train and even Severus all snatched from her, leaving nothing but the taste of an odd and exciting dream lingering on her tongue.

But at least she would have her sister back.

* * *

Across the tower, Remus Lupin followed Newlyn, the fifth-year prefect, up the boys' staircase and into a circular room, where he discovered his trunk laid out at the foot of a four-poster bed, next to the bed which had been designated for a boy called Jonathan Goomer, whom Remus had met at dinner. Remus watched with wide-eyed astonishment as two black-haired boys started shooting sparks at each other from the ends of their wands, laughing fit to burst. The other boy he hadn't met yet, the pudgy one, climbed atop his own bed and cheered them on.

Remus ducked his head, not wanting to be caught staring, and clicked open his trunk to search for his night clothes. He was quite used to exhaustion, but the type he was feeling now was different than the aching fatigue he felt every month around the full moon. Now he felt as if his nerves had frayed all the way to their very ends, leaving his eyes droopy and his legs rather shaky.

As surreptitiously as he could muster, he peered up at the two boys, who were now standing each on their own beds, dueling as if they had not a care in the world. The thought now crossed Remus's mind that he must be very behind in his spellwork. He had started reading his school books with fervent excitement as soon as they were purchased, but his father had told him that he wasn't allowed to do any magic before starting at Hogwarts. These two boys, though, had clearly been practicing. Remus averted his eyes, trying to quell a rising panic inside of him.

"Oi! Watch it there!" shouted Jonathan Goomer, whose curtains had nearly been set aflame by some of the sparks from one of the boys' wands. The duelers paused and then simultaneously collapsed on their beds, giggling tiredly.

The one with the glasses lolled his head over the side of the bed and looked up at Goomer, his face upside-down. "Sorry about that, mate. Didn't mean to almost get you."

Goomer smiled at him. "Not a problem. Just next time let me in on it so I have a chance to defend my territory."

The boy swung himself right-side-up, his face red from his inverted position. "I'm James Potter, by the way."

"I'm Jonathan Goomer, but everyone just calls me Goomer, and I know who you are. And you," he said, indicating James's dueling partner, "are Sirius Black. You're the ones that jumped in the lake."

The boy called Sirius Black was unlacing his shoes, but paused and grinned up at them. "I think that's going to be our names from now on. Sirius Black and James Potter – the thickies from the lake. Has a nice ring to it."

The pudgy boy tittered loudly at this from his perch on his bed, but nobody seemed to be paying him any attention at all.

"I'd hope we could find some better nicknames for ourselves sometime in the next seven years," said James, looking inexplicably at Remus. "What do you reckon?"

Remus felt his mouth go very dry as everyone turned to look at him. "M-me?" he stuttered. James nodded and raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for a response. Remus fidgeted, trying to think of an appropriate reply. He didn't have any experience talking to boys his own age, but his mother had told him to be himself. "Well…I guess I reckon that 'Thickie From the Lake One' and 'Thickie From the Lake Two' don't really roll off the tongue very well."

Both James and Sirius laughed loudly at this, and Remus could not stop the pride that swelled within him.

"I want to be One!" James told Sirius. "You can be Two, Black."

Sirius finally got around to removing his shoes and chucked them onto the floor unceremoniously. "What's your name, anyway?" he asked Remus.

"Remus Lupin," he squeaked.

"Nice to meet you, Remus," said James, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked toward the lavatory. "And we'll leave those new nicknames up to you."

"Think you can handle it?" Sirius asked, his eyebrows raised innocently.

Remus licked his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, so that none of the other boys would notice they were shaking. "Shouldn't be too hard to outdo 'One' and 'Two.'"

"That's the spirit!" said Sirius.

James and Sirius talked animatedly with one another as all of the boys prepared for bed, though neither said another word to Remus until he was pulling the heavy red curtains closed around his four-poster.

"G'night, Remus," came the voice of Sirius Black. "And don't worry, we'll find a nickname for you too."

Remus shivered, burying his face into the cool softness of the unfamiliar pillow. He had struggled all day trying to reconcile what his parents had told him that morning. His father had pulled him aside after breakfast and had instructed him to keep his head down and his focus on his studies, had warned Remus to not draw any attention to himself, lest the other students find out his secret. This, his father had said, was the only way to keep them all safe and to ensure that Remus would be able to get his education. His mother, on the other hand, had hugged him tightly on the train platform, and had whispered to him to be himself, to make friends, and that he was no different than any of the other boys, not really. She had smoothed his hair and gazed at him with tears in her eyes, had told him how proud she was of him, how the other students would be lucky to call him their friend. But Remus did not know how to be a friend. With the exception of a few Muggle cousins whom he saw once or twice a year, Remus had never been around other children…at least not since _before_. And he could not remember _before_ , not other than a few blurry recollections that he was not convinced were more than misplaced imagination.

And so Remus Lupin laid in the darkness, awake long after the breathing of the other boys had become deep and slow and even, thinking of the many, many nicknames that Sirius Black could bestow upon him, and longing desperately for home.


	3. 1-3 or 'Slytherins and Gryffindors'

**Chapter 3 - 1.3 or "Slytherins and Gryffindors"**

There was only one way to describe it.

They were lost.

James had woken the next morning to a strangled swearword and a shove to the shoulder by none other than Sirius Black, who insisted they were all late for breakfast. Remus and Peter, who had also been unceremoniously roused by the shout, jumped out of bed at once, and it was only when James noticed that Goomer's bed was empty and the sun was high in the sky that he realized that Sirius was right and that breakfast was probably well underway in the Great Hall. The four had thrown on their school robes and had hurried from the dormitory as quickly as possible.

The only problem was that they were now walking down a windowless corridor that none of them had ever seen before.

"You know, they really should provide us with a map or something," said Sirius. His stomach rumbled a loud response. They turned down the next corridor, which looked frustratingly similar to the one they had just navigated.

"This is hopeless," James sighed, stopping to lean his back against a portrait of a milkmaid who harrumphed and scurried for cover.

"Well we can't just stand here for the next seven years," said Sirius.

"I'm hungry," Peter pouted.

"C'mon," said Remus, who had continued walking, "we can try this way."

James stood up straight again and made to follow Remus, but a second later, a spark of blue light suddenly shot right past his left ear. He whirled around and dug in his pockets for his wand, but it was too late – Severus Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, already aiming another curse at him. This time, James wasn't so lucky, and the spell hit him full in the stomach. With an "umph," he hit the ground, every muscle in his body contracting in jerky twitches. It was not a painful hex, James realized after a moment with some relief, though it didn't make the twitching against the cold stone floor any less uncomfortable.

The others swiveled around as well and watched in horror as James rolled on the floor, twitching and spasming as though he were having some sort of fit. Snape remained at the end of the corridor, a triumphant smile on his lips.

Sirius growled in anger and shot a hex at Snape, who blocked it easily. Snape retaliated, whipping his wand in a circular motion, and a spark of light jetted toward Sirius, who jumped out of the way, but the spell hit Peter instead. Peter cried out as his legs started dancing uncontrollably and he bumped into Sirius, who grabbed his elbow instinctively, trying to steady the smaller, wobbling boy. From somewhere behind them, the milkmaid's painting swung open and none other than the Head Boy stepped out from the passageway behind it. He froze for a moment and surveyed the scene in surprise before striding forward with his wand raised.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" he said, his voice loud with authority. With a few flicks of his wand, both James and Peter were relieved of their jinxes at once. The Head Boy glared at Snape and turned his wand toward him. "You…what's your name?"

"Severus Snape," the boy muttered, contempt dancing in his eyes.

The Head Boy, who James now recognized as Frank Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor, narrowed his eyes and lowered his wand. "Ten points from Slytherin, and I'm going to report this to your Head of House. There's no magic in the corridors…much less dueling. Off you go."

But Snape remained in place, glaring at James. "This isn't the end, Potter," he said, his lip curling. With one last glance at Frank, he turned and disappeared in the opposite direction.

Frank turned to the boys, who were all staring at the place Snape had been with a mixture of disbelief and disgust on their faces. "You all right?" he asked James and Peter.

They both nodded. "Thanks," Peter squeaked.

Frank's face softened. He looked at James and Sirius, his eyes narrowed. "You two…you're Potter and Black, right? The first years that –"

"– jumped in the lake?" Sirius finished for him. He met James's eye and they both bit back laughter. "Yeah, that's us."

Frank rolled his eyes slightly, but he looked far from annoyed. "C'mon," he said, starting down the corridor, "I'll show you how to get to the Great Hall for breakfast."

The four boys hurried to catch up. "How did you know?" James asked, taking a liking to Frank.

Frank chuckled. "You think you four are the only first years in the school or something? I've been helping lost students find their breakfasts all morning." He pulled a heavy blue tapestry from the wall, revealing a narrow staircase. "Through here, but mind the fourth step. It vanishes," he added, holding the tapestry back for them.

It wasn't until they were off the stairs and in a brightly lit corridor that looked much more familiar to James that Frank turned to him and asked, "Why was that Slytherin so intent on hexing you, anyway?"

James and Sirius exchanged a glance before James looked back at Frank innocently. "I have no idea."

Frank looked like he didn't believe that for a second. "Well, just be careful. That twitching hex he used on you was some N.E.W.T. level magic, believe it or not. I know some in my year who can't even pull that one off."

Sirius snorted as they turned the corner and found themselves in the entrance hall. "He probably spent all night trying to find a curse that would work on us after the train yesterday."

"You two need to work on your stories," said Frank, as they made their way into the Great Hall. "That doesn't sound like you don't know who that Slytherin was."

James smirked at him and sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table. "We never said we didn't know who he was. We said we didn't know why he was hexing us."

"Maybe it's you who needs to work on his interrogation skills," said Sirius, sitting down next to James.

Frank laughed and continued walking down the aisle toward a group of beckoning seventh years. "I'll get right on that," he said. With a wave, he called back, "Stay out of trouble!"

Remus and Peter sat down across from the pair, who were both already filling their plates with bacon and eggs. Remus stared at them, looking anxious.

"That was the Head B-boy, right?" he asked.

James nodded. "Frank Longbottom." He frowned at Remus's expression. "So what?"

"I don't know," said the other boy. "You were just…talking to him like..." He looked down at his empty plate and then mumbled a quick, "Never mind."

"We were just talking to him normally," said Sirius, shoveling a heap of eggs into his mouth. "Wha's 'here ooo be afwaid ahf?"

"Never mind," repeated Remus, his voice so quiet that the others had to read his lips to catch it.

James shrugged and looked around, spotting Goomer sitting about halfway down the table. "Hey, why's Goomer sitting with those girls?"

The others turned to look as well, but it was Remus who spoke up, his voice a bit more confident than it had been previously. "He knows the one with the brown hair. I think she said her name was Raeanne. The other one is Mary something. I met them last night at the feast."

Peter Pettigrew let out a shrill giggle and turned back to his plate. "Why does he want to sit with girls, anyway?"

James had known Peter Pettigrew for a total of fifteen hours and the boy was already grating on his nerves. Most annoyingly, he had yet to say anything of interest or consequence, and James had little patience for that sort of uselessness. He rolled his eyes and reached for the bowl of sliced bananas, piling the fruit on his plate and then offering the bowl to Sirius, who pulled a face.

"I don't eat that rubbish." And then, as if to prove a point, Sirius threw three pieces of bacon into his mouth at once.

James stared at him. "What – bananas? Since when are bananas rubbish?"

"All of that fruit stuff," Sirius said, waving his hand toward the banana bowl as if trying to shoo it away.

"You don't like _fruit_?"

"Why in Merlin's name would you waste perfectly good stomach space on bananas and grapefruit when there's bacon and eggs and sausage to be had?" Sirius said, looking at James as if _he_ were the strange one. "I don't see any parents looking over our shoulders telling us to eat everything that is served to us without complaint, do you?"

"I happen to like bananas and grapefruit," James said.

Sirius shook his head solemnly. "You should learn to live a little, Potter."

James snorted. "And you should learn to chew with your mouth closed, Black."

To this, Sirius opened his mouth to show James the half-chewed contents within. Before James could respond, however, there was a sudden commotion above them. Hundreds of owls in variegated shades of brown, black, and white were swooping into the hall, each with a parcel or letter tied to its leg, searching for its owner. Peter had knocked over his pumpkin juice in fright when they had first flown in and was now trying to mop up the mess with his sleeve.

James's heart leapt when he saw his brown barn owl, Ari, flying towards him, a small parcel attached to his leg. He didn't often get post at home, at least not since his grandfather had died, and so Ari usually slept all day and hunted at night, sometimes taking notes downstairs for James when he was too lazy to go talk to his parents himself. Receiving post was quite a treat. Ari was helping himself to some cereal as James tore open his parcel to find a note from his parents, congratulating him on being made a Gryffindor, and some homemade fudge from the house elf Flora.

"Run for it, Sirius."

Startled, James looked up at Peter, who was staring at Sirius with an expression of utmost trepidation on his plump face. In front of Sirius, a solid black owl sat regally with a bright red envelope tied to its leg. James gasped. He had only received one Howler in his life, and that was when he was seven. He had been staying with his grandparents, who had caught him sneaking out in the middle of the night to play Quidditch in the garden. A bright red envelope from his parents had turned up the following morning.

Sirius, though, looked amazingly calm to James. He took the envelope from the owl with a steady hand and stared down at it, as if trying to decide whether to open it from the top or the side.

Peter had knocked over his juice again, but wasn't even attempting to clean it up. "Seriously, Sirius," he squeaked, "run for it. That's a Howler, and –"

"I know what it is," Sirius interrupted, but he didn't look remotely fazed. He looked up from the envelope and turned to glance around the Great Hall, his eyes resting on the Slytherin table. Several Slytherins were staring right back at him. Sirius smirked widely and, not taking his eyes off of the Slytherins, flipped open the envelope before propping his chin in his hand, looking completely relaxed.

James didn't know how he didn't fall off the bench, as the sound that exploded from the envelope made every dish in the hall rattle against the table. A woman's voice, brutal and rough, raged into the air, making his eardrums throb. Every student in the hall – and even some of the professors – covered his or her ears, cowering away from the thundering letter. Everyone except Sirius, that is, who simply sat smirking at the Slytherins, his elbow steady on the trembling table.

"SIRIUS BLACK! YOU LITTLE INGRATE! NOT TWELVE HOURS SINCE YOU DEPARTED LONDON AND ALREADY YOU ARE BRINGING SHAME UPON YOUR FAMILY! HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN USURP GENERATIONS OF HONOR WITH YOUR SELFISH, INSUBORDINATE WAYS? THIS IS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR PETULANT STUNTS AND WE WILL NOT STAND FOR IT! YOU WILL MARCH YOUR RECALCITRANT FEET UP TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE THIS INSTANT AND DEMAND TO BE RE-SORTED OUT OF THE HOUSE OF MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD TRAITORS AND INTO THE RIGHTFUL HOUSE OF THE BLACK FAMILY HEIR, OR YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED LIKE THE FILTHY LITTLE MUCK-WALLOWER YOU ARE!"

The letter burst into flames. Sirius had a rather serene look on his face, almost as if he were sitting on a tropical beach somewhere, listening to the lapping of the waves as opposed to a hysterical, berating envelope. Every head in the Great Hall was turned toward him, awaiting a reaction. He did not give them one. Instead, he turned to James, offering a plate of food.

"More bacon?"

Gradually, chatter broke out across the Great Hall again, and the students went back to their breakfasts, throwing occasional looks toward the end of the Gryffindor table. For Sirius's sake, James tried to bury his shock as the Howler's raging words rang in his head; he could not imagine any civilized woman who used language like Mrs. Black had used, much less toward her own son, and sympathy for his new friend reared up within him. For a moment, James considered what his father had told him before he had left the previous morning, and what he had overheard his parents saying about families like the Blacks, about how there were dark wizards and some of them had children at Hogwarts. But Sirius wasn't a dark wizard, Sirius was his mate. Sirius had made him laugh and had dared him to jump in the lake and had dueled Snivellus with him that very morning.

And above all, Sirius was a Gryffindor, and everyone knew that all the dark wizards came from Slytherin anyhow.

It was only a few minutes more before students started making their ways towards the entrance hall and their first classes of the term. Professor McGonagall had just been by to hand out the Gryffindors' timetables when a shadow fell over the boys, and James looked up to find a tall, beautiful Slytherin girl standing behind him.

"Sirius," the girl said pointedly. She had long brown hair that fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and something about the angles of her face gave James the impression that she was some sort of relative of Sirius's.

Sirius looked up from his eggs and greeted her with a cheeriness that bordered on contrived. "Hullo, Andromeda!"

"Can I have a word?" the girl named Andromeda asked, though it seemed less like a request and more like a command.

Sirius sighed down at the eggs that were left on his plate, but nodded all the same. He swung his legs over the bench, shouldered his school bag, grabbed a few more strips of bacon, and told James, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall." James nodded and watched as Sirius followed the girl through the crowd and out of sight.

James turned towards his two remaining companions. Peter Pettigrew was watching James as if waiting for instructions. Remus Lupin was studying his timetable so intently that he might have been trying to memorize it. Deciding that he would prefer to talk to Remus over Peter, James reached across the table and snatched the timetable out of the boy's hands.

"Hey!"

"Just checking," James said, holding the parchment up next to his own to inspect. Once convinced they matched, he handed it back to Remus. "The way you were studying it, I thought maybe it had all the exam answers written on there." A blush colored Remus's cheeks, but James just grinned and popped a banana slice into his mouth. "They're the same, anyhow, and we've Potions first thing. Wonder how long it'll take to get down to the dungeons?"

"Probably a bit of a trek," Remus said. "And unless you've managed to have a map drawn on the back of your timetable, I reckon it could make finding our breakfast this morning seem like a stroll in the park."

"I'll ask Stuart the best route to the dungeons, come on," James said, laughing as he stood up and motioning for the other two to follow him. "You're funny," he told Remus when they were halfway down the aisle. "You should speak up more, you know, I'm always game for a laugh."

If possible, Remus flushed even redder.

* * *

Lily Evans sat about halfway down the Gryffindor table, poking at a bowl of porridge and glancing distractedly at the Slytherins on the opposite side of the room. Severus could be seen slouching between two bigger boys, his eyes cast down at his plate and his black hair obscuring his face. He hadn't looked up at Lily since she had entered with Adin and Gin, nearly thirty minutes prior, but Lily was keeping a close guard, waiting for him to get up from the table. She hadn't spoken to him since before the Sorting and was desperate to do so.

Distraction came in the form of hundreds of owls, which swooped into the hall at once to deliver the morning post. It was a wondrous sight, watching the handsome birds circling near the enchanted ceiling (bright blue, with a few thin, wispy clouds), spotting their owners and diving toward them. As Lily had no owl, and her parents certainly had no owl, she was not surprised when no post was delivered to her, and she watched with only a tinge of jealousy when both Adin and Gin untied letters from home.

"From my sister," Adin said, holding up a long scroll of parchment covered in a loopy scrawl. "What in Circe's name does she have to tell me about already? I've only been gone a day!"

She began reading, and Lily busied herself again with her porridge, trying and failing to not think of Petunia. This endeavor only lasted a minute though, and Adin had just folded her letter up and pocketed it, when there was a sound like an explosion from the end of the Gryffindor table. A voice – a horrible, shrieking voice – rang out across the Great Hall, and the girls, along with everyone else in the vicinity, clamped their hands over their ears and cowered away from the terrible noise.

Apparently, Sirius Black's mother was none too happy that her son had been made a Gryffindor.

"Well!" Adin said, once the shrieking was over. She looked rather affronted. "I never…I mean, really! That was horrible language!"

"It's obvious now where he picked up his vocabulary," muttered Gin, almost to herself.

Adin whipped toward her. "What? Have you been talking to Sirius Black, then?"

"We sat together on the train," Gin said, shrugging awkwardly before going back to her cereal.

"Hmm," Adin said, craning her neck to get a better view of the boys at the end of the table. "I wonder if anyone's ever had to be re-sorted before?" Her gawking was rather obvious, and Lily, feeling suddenly quite awful for the boy whom she had liked when they first met and then staunchly disliked not long after that, decided to change the subject.

"What did your sister have to write, Adin?"

"Oh, just a whole heap of rambles." Adin rolled her eyes and took a sip of her pumpkin juice before continuing. "All about how the house elf Barton made her favorite plum pie last night, and how after they had returned home from King's Cross yesterday, she went off swimming with the Ridgebit sisters from down the street. As if I've ever cared about the Ridgebit sisters, but especially now. I mean, they won't be coming to Hogwarts for two more years. Kaia's just jealous because _I'm_ here now and she's stuck back in Bath where the only thing to do is swim with the Ridgebit sisters."

She said all this very fast, and Lily thought privately that Adin's sister Kaia wasn't the only one who could deliver a 'whole heap of rambles.' Luckily, the moment was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, who was handing out timetables.

"Excellent," Adin said, peering at Lily's timetable over her shoulder. "We must have all of our classes with our houses. Your schedule is the same as mine."

Lily looked back down at her parchment and nodded. "Potions first, in the dungeons. This place has dungeons? Creepy. Why not just call them the torture chambers?"

"Where are you going?" Lily looked up, startled by the question, only to find Adin staring at Gin, who had already packed up her things and was standing behind the table.

Seemingly taken aback by the question, Gin frowned down at the other girl. "Erm, to Potions. Or the torture chambers, if you will." She said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "See you there." And without another word, she turned and walked away.

Adin turned back to Lily, her mouth hanging open. "She could have at least waited for us!" Lily just shrugged and took a bite of her porridge, which Adin apparently took as a sign to continue. "I mean, she's quite odd, isn't she? _Genuinely_ odd," she added with a snort.

Lily laughed lightly but it faded as she turned to watch Gin's retreat between the house tables. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe she just likes to keep to herself." A movement over at the Slytherin table caught her eye, and with the thought that Adin would now consider she, too, to be _genuinely_ odd, Lily sprung up and pulled her bag over her shoulder. Adin stared at her, confused.

"I'll meet you in the dungeons," she told her. "Just have to use the loo first."

She didn't catch up to him until he had made his way into the entrance hall.

"Severus! Hey, Severus!"

He paused next to a stone pillar that flanked the door to the Great Hall, but did not turn toward her as she approached. "What?" he asked impatiently once Lily had caught up with him.

"What do you mean, 'what?'" she snapped, irritated by his attitude. She glanced around at the other students mingling around the entrance hall. Sirius Black was having a hurried, whispered conversation with a tall Slytherin girl nearby. Lily lowered her voice. "I wanted to see how your first night at Hogwarts was. We're friends, remember?"

"Are we?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"What – of course we are! Why would you ask something like that?"

A pained expression took shape on his pale face. "You're in Gryffindor!"

"Well it's not as if I chose it!" Lily said, suddenly feeling anguished. She half expected Severus to hiss " _Freak!_ " at her and stalk off. "And that doesn't mean we can't be friends anymore!" She paused, waiting for a response, but he did not provide one. Eyes filling with tears, she said in a small, trembling voice, "Does it?"

He finally seemed to notice her distress, and his face twitched, softening. "It doesn't –"

Something very heavy knocked into Lily from behind and she stumbled forward, grabbing the stone pillar to keep herself from sprawling onto the ground. When she had regained her footing, she looked up to see a thin, brown-haired boy brushing his robes off and glowering at her. Two others stood on either side of him, one stringy with a twisted face, the other beefy and beady-eyed.

"Watch where you're going!" the first boy commanded.

"I wasn't going anywhere," she said, pulling her bag tightly against her shoulder. "I was just standing here."

"And that's the problem with you Gryffindor trash," drawled the boy. "You think you're entitled to just stand wherever you wish, even if it's right in front of the bleeding door to the Great Hall."

 _Gryffindor trash?_ Lily felt her face grow warm, and she stepped backward instinctively.

"And _that_ ," said a loud voice from behind them, "is the problem with you Slytherin trash, Avery. You think you're entitled to tell others what they're entitled to."

Sirius Black had evidently finished his previous conversation, and was now standing only a few feet away, his hands casually in his pockets. Avery's eyes narrowed as his lips crooked into a sneer.

"'Slytherin trash?' Not even a full day in Gryffindor, and you've already turned blood traitor, have you Black? You're going to regret that when your mummy has you re-sorted."

"I'd rather leave Hogwarts entirely than be re-sorted into a house with the likes of you, Avery," said Sirius, and though his posture remained casual, there was a sharp edge to his voice. "I don't think I could stand the stench, you know."

"Sod off, Black!" snapped the boy with the twisted face.

"Ah, Mulciber, didn't see you there," said Sirius, smirking now. "It's been a while. Tortured any bunnies, lately? Tripped any old ladies?"

"Only the Muggle ones," said the boy named Mulciber. The entrance hall was filling up as more and more students exited the Great Hall and began making their ways toward their lessons, and Lily shifted uneasily, wondering if there was going to be some sort of fight and if there was a way for her to slip away unnoticed. She glanced at Severus, who was staring determinedly at his shoes.

"You know, it _has_ been a while, Black," said Avery, his eyes glittering maliciously. "I'd say, it's been since – well, since _April_ , hasn't it? I'm surprised your parents even let you out of the house to catch the train yesterday. We all figured you'd be locked up for a few more months, at least."

Sirius's face contorted and Lily stared, wondering if he was going to lunge at the other boy, or else be sick all over the entrance hall floor. The other boys laughed, as if this comment – which Lily didn't understand in the least – was the funniest joke they had heard all year.

"No wonder you're a Gryffindor," continued Avery, looking at Sirius with all the condescending spite it seemed he could muster, "Slytherin doesn't accept –"

"– anyone who's got two brain cells to rub together?" James Potter had arrived, emerging from the Great Hall with two other Gryffindor boys Lily didn't know trailing behind him. "Or were you going to say that Slytherin doesn't accept anyone who's not a slimy, twitchy, toe-licking git? Because that works too."

The conversation had escalated with James's arrival, and Lily was almost certain it would evolve into a fight. Not only did she not want to be involved in a brawl on her first morning at Hogwarts, but the animosity that apparently existed between Gryffindor and Slytherin was starting to become strikingly evident, and she glanced again at Severus, beginning to understand why he had been so troubled by their divisive sorting. This was about something more than not sharing the same common room or breakfast table.

Avery, though, didn't bristle at James's barbs. He surveyed the newcomer with something akin to interest. "Potter, isn't it?"

"That's right," James said, walking over to stand next to Sirius.

A beat of silence, and then – to everyone's surprise – Avery stepped forward and offered James his hand. "Marshall Avery," he introduced himself, as though James had not just dramatically insulted him and his friends.

James stared down at the outstretched hand, but did not take it. "I didn't ask," he said, his tone cold.

A dull flush dotted Avery's cheeks as he swung his arm back down to his side. "Well you'll learn soon enough," he said haughtily. He pushed back his shoulders and jerked his head at Mulciber and the beefy boy. "Let's get out of here." He took a step and then turned toward Severus, as if noticing him for the first time. "It's Snape, right?" Severus jumped at the address, and then nodded his head quickly. "Well, come on, then." Avery did not wait for a response before throwing one last glare at Sirius, pushing past the others, and stalking off through the entrance hall.

Lily wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it was certainly not for Severus to turn and follow the other, horrible boys. She was proven wrong, however, and after a fleeting, torn look, Severus hurried after them.

"Well," James Potter said once they were gone, clapping his hands once and giving Sirius a crooked grin, "that was exciting. Let's get off to Potions, shall we? I've only just got instructions on how to get to the dungeons from Stu."

"All right there, Titchy?" Sirius said.

Lily steeled herself, met his gaze, and nodded confidently. "All right." He gave her a swift smile that did not reach his eyes.

None of them paid Lily any more attention as they turned and made their way through the entrance hall. Lily exhaled a trembling breath before following them, thinking it wouldn't do to get lost on the way to her first lesson. It wouldn't do to be a blubbering mess when she showed up to her first lesson either, so she fought back the prickling in her eyes. Petunia said she was a freak. Severus was in a different house. Severus thought they might not be able to be friends anymore. Slytherins and Gryffindors seemed to hate each other. And there had been talk of blood traitors and tripping Muggles that made Lily feel as if she was very far behind in understanding wizarding culture. And worse than all of that was the fact that Severus had left with those nasty, malicious boys.

James Potter and Sirius Black, she mused as she watched the pair talking animatedly ahead of her, were perhaps not so bad by comparison.

In the end, it took the group about ten minutes to find their classroom in the dungeons, though luckily everyone seemed to be at least a few minutes late. When Lily and the boys entered the dungeon, they found a rather round-shaped wizard standing in the front, smiling at them from behind an enormous silvery mustache.

"Take a seat now, take a seat," he said, indicating the wooden chairs set behind the tables. "No need to worry, you are not the last to arrive."

Lily sat down at an empty table and took out the Potions book that she had bought a few weeks prior. Her nerves were eating at her and her emotions had her jittery, but she focused on her excitement at the lesson that was before her. She had scanned her book a bit, and Potions looked easy enough. A minute later, Adin walked in and plopped herself on the chair next to Lily, who smiled brightly at her.

The professor had closed the door and was now examining them all like they were fruit at the market and he had to choose the best of the bunch. He even licked his lips.

"Hello class, I am Professor Slughorn, and unless you are exceedingly lost, I expect you are here to learn Potions." A few members of the class smiled slightly. "Now, I've –"

The door opened, and Slughorn cut off. Everyone in the room turned to watch as Avery, Mulciber, the beefy boy, and Severus Snape paraded into the room. Lily chanced a glance at James, who was sitting in the back with Sirius, both of them glaring at the newcomers. She then turned to Adin, confused.

"What are they doing here? They're in Slytherin!" she whispered, trying to keep any hint of panic from her voice.

"We have Potions with the Slytherins," Adin said, indicating the other side of the room, where a whole group of students Lily didn't recognize sat. "It was on the timetable."

Lily tried to grab Severus's attention, but Slughorn was talking again, and she didn't want to seem rude on the first day, so she forced herself to listen.

"…will be assigning each of you a partner for your first two years," he said, fingering the golden buttons that spread over his round stomach. All of the first years were listening intently to him, and he seemed to be reveling in the attention. "I find that the majority of young students benefit in their first few years of Potions if they have an ally of sorts, with whom they can train, study, and discuss their potion-making practices." Slughorn walked around his desk, to where a small bronze cauldron sat. He waved his wand at it, and two slips of parchment floated up from the cauldron and into his waiting hand. "I've taken the liberty of writing all your names on a slip of parchment. I will pick them at random and you will be asked to move to share a desk with your new partner."

He gazed down at the first two slips of parchment, pausing for dramatic effect. "Halden Wilkes…you are paired with Mary Macdonald." Lily turned and watched as Mary, noticeably trembling, stood up and walked to an empty table. The beefy boy who had been flanking Avery joined her. Mary smiled timidly at him. It was not returned.

Slughorn paused to look at Wilkes, a funny grin on his face. " _Oho!_ " he said, and Mary visibly jumped in her seat. "Wilkes, eh? The son of Randolph Wilkes?" Wilkes nodded smugly. Slughorn beamed back at him. "Taught your father when he was in school. Personally recommended him to the Department for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures at the Ministry. You tell him old Sluggy says hello."

Wilkes nodded again and said, "Yes sir." Slughorn went back to his list.

"Adin," Lily whispered, suddenly needing verbal confirmation of what she had already witnessed with her own eyes. "Slytherins and Gryffindors…they don't get along, do they?"

Adin gave a quiet snort and shook her head. "Not usually, no. Slytherins tend to think Gryffindors are blood-traitor Muggle lovers, and Gryffindors think Slytherins are pureblood fanatic lunatics."

Nodding dejectedly, Lily turned back to Slughorn, who had two more slips of parchment in his hand. "Peter Pettigrew…" He paused and looked around the room until the plump little boy who had been trailing after James raised his hand in acknowledgement. "You will be paired with…Adin Balini. Ah, Miss Balini, of course. I taught both of your parents as well. You look strikingly like your father."

Adin grimaced as she went and took a seat next to Peter Pettigrew.

"Next we have Severus Snape and…" Lily caught her breath. "…Lily Evans." _Of course._

Severus had not moved an inch when his name was read. Lily gave the professor a friendly smile, grabbed her books, and made her way over to Severus's table. When she sat down, Slughorn merely returned her smile before going back to his cauldron without comment. Lily looked over at Severus and, for reasons unknown to her, immediately felt guilty. He was slumped in his seat, his lank black hair distorting her view of his face, flipping through the pages of his Potions book. He was acting like a right git, but he was still the best friend she had at Hogwarts, and perhaps their good fortune at having been partnered together was some sort of sign from the universe that their friendship would not be so quick to dissipate.

She leaned in close and nudged him with her elbow. His head immediately snapped up, his dark eyes wide and slightly hesitant. Lily glanced at Slughorn, who was busy blubbering about Raeanne's family, and then turned back to Severus, smiling.

"Pretty lucky, being paired together, huh?"

"Would've been luckier for you if you had been paired with Potter or Black, I'm sure."

His voice didn't hold the malice that it had in the entrance hall; instead, it was laced with something much sadder. She glanced again at Slughorn before leaning in closer to her friend.

"Why would I want that? _You're_ my best friend, Sev. Just because we're in different houses doesn't mean that will change."

"You've already made Gryffindor friends, though."

"So what if I have? We can have other friends too, you know. I'm not going to go through Hogwarts only talking to you, and I hope you wouldn't want to only talk to me. Right?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably before muttering, "I guess."

"It doesn't matter that I'm in Gryffindor and you're in Slytherin, not if we don't let it. And it doesn't matter how many other friends I have. You're my best friend."

He smiled slightly at her words, his eyes darting around the room before landing briefly on her face. "Promise?"

"Absolutely I promise," she whispered, grinning and returning her attention to the professor. Slughorn had evidently just paired Gin and Sirius together and was now reciting a list of Blacks with whom he had acquaintances.

"…went to school with your great-grandparents, I believe, Cygnus and Violetta, of course. And your grandmother Irma was Head Girl in her time here, taught her myself…dab hand at Potions…"

Sirius had both of his elbows on the desk in front of him and was gazing up at the professor with a look of utter boredom. Slughorn didn't even notice when Sirius started rapping his fingers on his desk in impatience.

"…and did you know that I'm the one who helped your Aunt Lucretia get her position at the Department for Magical Law Enforcement?"

Sirius sat up a bit straighter. Even from across the room, Lily wasn't fooled by the sudden innocent expression on his face or the cheerful lilt in his voice.

"No sir, I didn't know that," he said. "But I try to avoid my Aunt Lucretia as much as possible. You see, she has quite a problem with her body odor, and if I get too near her, I tend to have fits and pass out."

The class, with the exception of a few choice Slytherins, burst into laughter. Even Slughorn chuckled appreciatively. "Well let's see if your Potions prowess measures up to your cheek." He paused, the mirth fading from his face. "I have to say, Mr. Black, that I was surprised you weren't placed into Slytherin last night. I've known four generations of Blacks, and you are the first that hasn't been in my house."

"The personal hygiene gene must skip four generations then, Professor," said Sirius, in the same happily innocent tone. None of the Slytherins laughed this time.

"Moving on, then," said Slughorn, not even acknowledging Gin, "we have Remus Lupin partnered with James Potter."

Lily watched as James gathered up his things and went to sit next to the skinny Gryffindor who had also been walking with him after breakfast. The boy looked young for his age; he was wiry and pale and when he smiled at James, his smile was tight and nervous.

"James, m'boy!" said Slughorn, failing to notice the many eye rolls his repetitive prattle was garnering from his students. "How's your father doing? A most excellent potion-maker, of course, one of the best of his day! And your mother – I was sorry to hear that she had retired from St. Mungo's. Great Healers like her are rare to come by, you know. Be sure to tell them Professor Slughorn sends his regards."

James nodded, polite but uninterested. "Yes, sir."

There was something about him, Lily thought, as she really considered the boy for the first time since deciding that she did not like him. It seemed everyone – Adin, Avery, Professor Slughorn – already knew James Potter, and it seemed like he was unsurprised and unaffected by this knowledge. It didn't strike Lily as arrogance so much as some sort of casual magnetism. She tore her eyes away from him, hoping that no one, most particularly Severus, had noticed her staring.

The students were now all properly partnered – some looking happier with their companions than others – and Slughorn had replaced his name on the chalkboard with a list of instructions for their first potion. Only a half-hour later, Lily and Severus had managed to mix their very first potion: a bubbling blue concoction that supposedly helped to cure boils. Severus had remained quiet throughout the class, but Lily knew he was just nervous about messing up the potion. After a few failed tries at conversation, Lily decided to concentrate on the task as well, which she found to be remarkably simple. Adin, who was sitting at the table in front of them with Peter, kept turning around and asking what the secret was, as their potion was starting to resemble the porridge Lily had eaten at breakfast.

"I don't know," Lily shrugged, checking her book before adding six extra dried nettles. "Just follow what it says in the book. That's all we're doing."

Adin harrumphed and turned back around to help Peter, whose sleeve had caught on fire. Lily counted out twenty anti-clockwise stirs while Severus added the porcupine quills, and their potion immediately turned a translucent blue. Beaming, Lily double-checked the book.

"That's it, I think," she said, running her finger over the page. "That's the exact color the book says it should be…"

Slughorn made his way over to their table and took a peek in their cauldron. " _Oho!_ " he said, clapping his hands. Most of the students stopped what they were doing to look over at Snape and Lily. "Quite remarkable! A perfect cure to the peskiest of boils! Five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for each of you, and if you don't mind, I think I'll keep a sample of your potion for Madam Pomfrey."

As Slughorn dipped a beaker into Lily's cauldron for his sample, the peal of a bell signaled the end of the lesson, and the first years cleaned up as quickly as they could and made a mad rush to the door. Lily bade goodbye to Severus, who would be going to Charms, and left with Adin, following the group of Gryffindors through the corridors to Transfiguration.

And as she watched the group of boys in front of her laughing and joking and carrying on, Lily decided that maybe luck was on her side that day after all. Even if their houses hated one another on principle, even if their classmates were already at odds and firing insults, Lily and Severus now shared Potions. They were now not only friends, but partners, and successful partners at that.

A sign from the universe, indeed.

* * *

To Remus Lupin, Transfiguration seemed like quite a challenge. He had picked a desk next to Goomer, in the row behind James, Sirius and Peter. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake, as Goomer spent most of the lesson in conversation with Raeanne on the other side of him, leaving Remus to regret the fact that he hadn't sat next to the other boys, as they at least had talked to him from time to time. He was, however, close enough to overhear Professor McGonagall assign detentions to both James and Sirius as consequence for their escapade in the lake. Neither of them seemed too upset about their punishment, though; in fact, they were the only students in the class to successfully transfigure their matches into needles, earning them a combined ten points from McGonagall. Remus, relieved to discover that he was not significantly behind most of his classmates in spellwork practice, had managed to make his match thin and pointed, though he couldn't succeed in getting the wood to become metal.

At lunch, Remus sat between a group of shrill fifth-year girls and a pair of third years who were bickering over a missing Gobstones set. He did not talk to anybody and tried his very best to blend into the wooden bench.

After lunch, Remus followed Adin Balini and Lily Evans to Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he found James, Sirius, and Peter already seated and waiting for the lesson to start.

"Remus!" The boy in question started at James's call. "Where've you been? Here…come sit next to me."

James indicated the empty chair next to him and Remus hurried to it, his stomach fluttering nervously. James wanted to sit next to him. _Him_.

"Got lost did you?" Sirius said, grinning at him.

"Er…I –"

"You know," interrupted James. "That map idea isn't a bad one."

Sirius snorted. "Draw them up and sell them to first years. Make a shiny Sickle to be sure."

Remus couldn't tell if they were joking or not, so he kept his mouth shut. In all honesty, he found James and Sirius to be friendly and entertaining, but rather intimidating as well. The discussion ended when their professor entered. She was an ancient woman called Professor Eldon, and she spent the entire lesson lecturing them about the dangers of knarls and their quills. Her face was so wrinkled that she had an unmistakable resemblance to a Shar-Pei, but what really stuck out to them about her appearance was that she only used her right eye and her left remained closed. Remus was starting to suspect that her left eye had perhaps gotten on the wrong end of a knarl quill – hence her paranoia – when she randomly switched eyes, closing the right and peering at them through the left. James and Sirius started sniggering loudly at this, although Eldon didn't seem to hear.

Their last class of the day was Herbology, which they shared with the Hufflepuffs. Remus ended up seated next to Peter Pettigrew, who spent most of the lesson stammering in his ear. Remus didn't mind, though; he liked Peter well enough, and decided that Peter would probably be his best chance to have a friend among his roommates. Goomer didn't seem interested in finding friends among the boys, and James and Sirius had been joined at the hip since Remus had met them.

He was therefore shocked that evening at dinner, when Sirius and James plopped down across the table from him.

"Where's Goomer?" James asked, pausing from piling potatoes on his plate to look down the table.

"He's down there at the other end with Raeanne and Mary," said Remus.

Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he spotted Goomer with the girls. "He sure does spend a lot of time with them."

"He and Raeanne are good friends, I guess," said Remus quietly, feeling guilty for talking about Goomer behind his back.

James rolled his eyes, his mouth full of potatoes. "Oh well," he said, swallowing hard. "We'll just have to do it without him, then."

"Do what without who?" asked Peter, who had just taken a seat next to Remus. He was out of breath, and Remus got the distinct impression that he had been hurrying to catch up to James and Sirius, but had fallen behind. There was a quick moment where James and Sirius exchanged a glance, clearly annoyed that Peter had invited himself into their conversation. James shrugged and Sirius rolled his eyes, which Remus understood to mean some form of reluctant assent.

"All right," said James, turning back to the pair across the table. "We're planning something."

"Planning something?" Peter echoed.

James nodded, a devilish excitement shining in his eyes. "Something good. So are you in?"

"In?"

James waited, looking back and forth between the pair of them. "Well…are you?"

"Yes!" said Peter.

"Oh. Okay, then," said Remus.

"Excellent. It's called, 'Operation: Get Snivellus,'" pronounced Sirius.

Remus choked on a parsnip. "Get what?"

"Snivellus," James repeated. "You know, that greasy Slytherin."

"Wh-what about him?" said Remus, worried.

"Well James and I were talking about how to get him back for hexing us – we can't just stand for that, obviously – and James mentioned something he found recently in his dad's old school stuff."

James's grin widened as he leaned in closer to the others. "Get ready," he said, "because we have a great idea, but we need your help."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading and please review! Would love to hear your thoughts.


	4. 1-4 or 'Operation: Get Snivellus'

**A/N:** Thanks to for the review(s)! I've been working on this story for a long time and would love to hear some feedback.

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - 1.4 or "Operation: Get Snivellus"**

The four boys finished their supper quickly and headed up to the common room, where they hastily completed the Transfiguration assignment that McGonagall had set for them that morning. James and Sirius were finished in fifteen minutes, but Remus and Peter took nearly an hour. James waited impatiently for them to finish, trying to distract himself by playing a game of Exploding Snap with Sirius, but only managed to singe his fingers.

He had gone back and forth over the decision to share something that was so personal to him, but he had already told Sirius about it, and he decided that pranking Snivellus was more important than secrecy anyway. Besides, he had decided that morning to staunchly ignore everything his parents had warned him about, at least as it pertained to Sirius. Sirius was one of the most fun people James had ever met, and though they had only known each other a day or so, he already trusted him. As for Remus and Peter, they would need at least one more person to help manage the plan, and though they would have preferred Remus over Peter, it couldn't hurt to have an extra set of eyes around, even if the eyes were attached to someone as annoying as Peter Pettigrew.

"Finished," said Peter, slamming his quill down and admiring his work. He, James, and Sirius all turned to wait for Remus, who sighed and rolled up his parchment.

"I'll just…finish later, I guess."

"Excellent," said Sirius, and he and James bounded up the stairs, followed closely by an overly excited Peter and an anxious Remus.

Once in the dormitory, James sat down on his bed and the others gathered around him, staring at him as if waiting for instructions. He shifted. "Okay, well, erm, I'm going to show you something, and it's going to help us prank Snivellus and go on lots of fun and fantastic adventures." He sprawled out flat on his stomach, hung his head over the end of the bed, and started digging around in his trunk. Finally, at the very bottom, he found what he had been searching for. Pausing first for dramatic effect, he sat up straight and unveiled what appeared to be nothing more than an old, ordinary book. He stroked the cover lovingly, and the others just stared at it, seemingly unimpressed.

"A book?" Sirius raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's all? I thought you said –"

"Hold your hippgriffs," said James, clutching the book to his chest as if insulted. "Let me explain." The others stared at him. Sirius had his lips pursed, looking doubtful. Peter shifted from foot to foot in excitement. Remus seemed to be on the verge of fainting from nervousness. James beckoned them forward, and they all climbed onto his bed, sitting cross-legged in a circle.

"James, hold on a second," said Remus, his voice imploring. "Whatever we're doing…this plan or whatever it is…we can't – I mean, we're not going to get into trouble for it, are we?"

Sirius scoffed. "Don't worry, they won't kick you out of Hogwarts just for a jolly jape on another student. And besides, what's the fun if there's no risk in it?"

Remus looked as if he very much wanted to disagree but thought better of it, because he simply looked back at James and twisted his hands together.

"Okay," James began, "a few weeks ago, my mum wouldn't let me out to play Quidditch because it was raining and she thought I was getting sick or some rot like that, so I was bored out of my socks, and I went poking round in my attic to find my old set of Gobstones. There were some boxes up there, with a load of my parents' old school things, I guess, and I found this." He held out the book for all of them to see.

 _"Hexing the Enemy: An Encyclopedia of the Most Daring Hexes, Jinxes, and Pranks for Magical Jokesters,_ " Peter read.

"So that's what's going to help us?" said Sirius. "A book?"

James frowned at their lack of excitement. "Well, yes, but we've already got our idea, right? This will just help us to expand on it." The others looked at one another, skeptical. James cleared his throat. "All right, so it's not the most brilliant thing in the world, but this isn't even what I wanted to show you." He opened the thick book to a page in the middle and pulled out a few folded sheets of very old looking parchment. "These are." He waved the parchment through the air as if to prove his point.

Peter, trying his best to get a better view of the parchment, fell off the bed. Sirius and James both snorted in laughter, but Remus jumped up at once to offer him a hand. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Peter nodded, a dull pink creeping up his cheeks. He climbed back onto the bed and looked at James, who was attempting to keep a straight face. "What is it?"

James coughed and unfolded the first sheet of parchment, tucking the second away underneath his leg. "This," he said, waving it again in front of the others, "is what we're going to use for the first stage of our operation. It's also going to be rather handy throughout the rest of our Hogwarts careers." He paused, reveling in the anticipation coming from Peter. Even Remus was looking rather interested now.

Sirius rolled his eyes and snatched the parchment from James's hand. "Hey!" he cried, making a swipe for his stolen possession, but Sirius was too quick for him, having already sprung off the bed and unfolded the parchment, his eyes skimming the contents. He looked back up at James after a moment with confusion on his face.

"It's a love letter," he said, handing it off to Remus as if to confirm. "What's an old girly love letter got to do with –"

"You, clearly, are not keen on details, Black," James said, grabbing the parchment back from Remus and pointing down at it. "It's an old letter that my mum wrote my dad, back when they were at Hogwarts ages ago. It seems as if they were planning a date –"

"Eurgh!" said Peter dramatically. James made a face at him and continued.

"And it says here, right here, that my dad needed to remember the best way to get into the kitchens." James raised the parchment in front of his nose and read, "'Let's not have a repeat of last time, when you were twenty minutes late because you were standing outside the door, tickling the orange. Remember, Fleamont, it's the _pear_ that gives up the door handle when it's tickled just so.'"

"Your dad's name is _Fleamont_?" Sirius said, laughing.

James stared at him. "Are you _seriously_ going to make fun of my dad's name?"

Sirius sobered. "Fair point. Go on."

"But that's just it!" James said, bouncing himself on the bed a few times in his excitement. "It tells us how to get into the kitchens! We've only got to find a painting of some fruit, and we tickle the pear, and it turns into a door handle!"

"Do you think it's for real?" Peter asked, his eyes wide.

"Of course it's for real! Why would my mum write it if it wasn't true?"

"It's pretty brilliant," said Sirius, hopping back up onto the bed next to James. "Now all we've got to do is track down this painting –"

"All we've got to do?" repeated Remus. "But we could barely find the Great Hall today. How are we supposed to find one painting in this massive castle?"

"By exploring, of course!" said James.

Sirius pointed to the second sheet of parchment that was poking out from under James's leg. "What's that one, then?"

"This one," James said, unfolding the parchment and grinning at them, "might be a bit trickier, but if I'm understanding it right, it could also be even more valuable than the tip on the kitchens." He searched the letter for the specific line and read, "'We've studied the magic behind the enchantment, and I think we've finally cracked it. You'll need to point your wand at your own reflection's forehead – this is the bit that we had been missing – and say the incantation, ' _Dissendium_.' The door will announce itself and you, my love, shall be able to take me out in the village without anyone ever the wiser.'"

"I hope the 'my love' bit was in the letter and you weren't just tossing it in for fun, Potter," said Sirius. James shoved him off the bed.

"The village?" Peter's brow was furrowed in confusion. "What village?"

"Why, Hogsmeade, of course!" said James.

"What's Hogsmeade?"

"An all-magical village that we officially get to start visiting in third year," James explained, folding the precious pieces of parchment and tucking them gently into the pages of his book. "But if we can figure out where this secret passage starts, we'd be able to go whenever we want!"

"That's brilliant," whispered Peter.

Sirius was now stretched out on the floor beside the bed, his hands crossed behind his head. "She said something about a reflection, right? So it sounds as if this passageway is hidden by some sort of mirror or something. Then all we've got to do is find all the mirrors, and try that spell, and see if they open up!"

"How many mirrors do you reckon there are in the school?" James asked, leaning his head over the side of the bed to get a better view of Sirius.

"No idea…a dozen, maybe?"

"I'm confused," said Remus, though he looked much more anxious than confused. "I mean, the kitchens are one thing, but why would we want to sneak out of school? We just got here!"

Sirius sat up and looked at Remus as though he were mad. "Remus! Do you know what people would do to get this kind of information?"

Remus faltered under Sirius's incredulous stare. He picked at the knee of his robes and didn't look at any of them as he spoke. "I-I just thought…I'm not sure I'd w-want to sneak out of school. I like it here, so far, and we're lucky to even be here –" He had evidently said too much, as he cut off and flushed red.

"Lucky?" asked James. "Is it luck? I thought any kid with magic in Britain was supposed to come to Hogwarts."

"That's what I thought too," Sirius nodded.

"Not lucky," Remus muttered, looking very much like he would prefer to vanish on the spot. "I meant…I don't want to get in trouble for sneaking out. They might kick us out for that."

James was starting to feel guilty for some reason at how unsettled Remus looked. This plan was supposed to excite them, not upset them. "It's not a big deal if you don't want to go," he said, looking Remus straight in the eye. "Really. And we don't even need to get into Hogsmeade anytime soon. We can save it for later. We do, however, need to find the kitchens in order to make our plan work."

Remus smiled gratefully at James, who returned it. Sirius shrugged and reached up to grab the encyclopedia of pranks off of James's bed. Remus was watching him cautiously, as if scared he might be cross with him for not wanting to run off to Hogsmeade that very instant. Sirius, though, just grinned and looked up at them all.

"All right lads," he said. "Time to start phase one of Operation: Get Snivellus."

* * *

In the end, it took the boys three days to discover the painting of the bowl of fruit. It was late, and James and Sirius had been out all evening, serving the detention for their sojourn in the lake. Remus was up in the dormitory, writing a letter to his parents before turning in for the night, when the pair clambered in and made straight for his bed.

"Evening, Remus," Sirius said, hopping up to sit on the foot of Remus's bed. Remus shifted his legs to make room for the other boy. "We have news."

Across the dormitory, Peter, who had been reading through the latest issue of his favorite comic, straightened and looked over at the group.

"You have news?" Remus repeated. "About…about your detention?"

Both boys laughed at this. "Nah, though it was a real lark, I tell you," said Sirius. "We were made to clean out the niffler enclosure with that giant bloke Hagrid, and he's got some good stories, that Hagrid."

James, who seemed to be holding something behind his back, wrinkled his nose. "I'm not certain that 'lark' is the word I'd use to describe it. I reckon I'm going to smell like niffler dung for the next week. Do we smell like niffler dung, Remus?"

Remus looked back and forth between them. They certainly didn't smell _good_. "Er, no…I mean, you…I'm not sure what niffler dung smells like exactly."

They both laughed again. "Don't worry," said Sirius. "We'll be off to wash in a minute. But first, our news."

"Right." Remus straightened and set his quill and half-written letter on his bedside table. Peter, he had noticed, had placed _The Adventures of Dino Danger_ aside and was now casually inching closer to them. "Your news."

With a dramatic flourish, James revealed what had been behind his back. It was a small plate of chocolate eclairs. Remus stared at it.

"Eclairs? Your news is eclairs?"

But Peter, who was now standing directly beside Remus's bed, gasped at it. "You've done it! You've found the kitchens!"

James hastened a quick look at Goomer's bed, where the velvet curtains were pulled tightly closed. He then turned back to the others and bobbed his head, grinning eagerly. "Finally," he said. "We decided to take a poke down round the basement after our detention –"

"But it's after curfew!" whispered Peter.

"So?" Sirius said. "If we were caught, we'd just say we were on our way back from the detention. Anybody who could smell us wouldn't argue the point."

"Anyway," James continued, "we found it. The fruit painting. Tickled the pear, it turned into a door handle, and _voila_ ," he waved his hand over the plate of eclairs, "the kitchens."

"And now we've only got to figure out the potion and a few spells, and we'll be all set." Sirius hopped off the bed and made his way toward the lavatory. "But first – a wash."

James offered Remus the plate, but Remus shook his head politely.

"Don't want one?" asked James.

"No, thank you." Remus paused, wondering briefly whether he had the nerve to say it, and then he smiled. "They smell like niffler dung."

For the third time in as many minutes, James laughed.

* * *

For the next week, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter spent every free moment they had planning their ultimate revenge on Severus Snape. They spent their free evenings in the library, hastily scribbling down their assignments and then flipping through dusty old books to try and find the spells they would need. During every History of Magic lesson, the four sat in the back of the room, passing notes containing details, instructions, and new spells they had found. Professor Binns, a frightfully old wizard who was quite oblivious to any of the students in his room, didn't even notice when James fell out of his chair from laughing so hard at the pictures Sirius had drawn on his parchment. Needless to say, they discovered all that they could get away with soon into the first lesson.

Remus found himself caught up in the whirlwind created by James Potter and Sirius Black, unable to slow anything down and uncertain as to whether he would if he had the nerve. On the one hand, the others never gave a second thought to including him. It was almost as if he were – dare he think it? – _normal_. And not only did they include him, they seemed to _like_ him, something he wouldn't have thought possible before he had met them. They asked his opinion on ideas and schemes, waited for him after lessons, and even seemed sincerely interested in his home life.

"You mean your dad's a wizard, but your mum, she's a Muggle?" said Sirius incredulously during lunch one day. "An _actual_ Muggle?"

"Are there _fake_ Muggles?" James cut in.

"But she – she can't do any magic _at all_?" Sirius clarified.

"No," Remus shook his head and poked at the carrots on his plate. Worry fluttered in his stomach. "She can't do any magic at all. Is that – is that a problem?"

Sirius seemed amazed by this. "A problem?" He thought about it for a moment and then let out a whoop of laughter. "It's bloody brilliant, it is. How'd your dad meet her then? What's she like? Do you have a house elf that does all the washing up for her, or does she have to do that by herself, without magic? Has she got one of those," he snapped his fingers together as if trying to remember the right word, "one of those _motorcar_ things?"

Remus nodded timidly and Sirius let out another whoop of laughter.

"Come off it," said James. "Even my parents have got a car! Everyone does."

"Not mine. I've never met someone who's got a motorcar before." Sirius piled more roast beef on his plate. "My mum says they're loud and unsightly and won't get anywhere near one. Granted, _she's_ loud and unsightly, and I'd like to never get anywhere near _her_ , but that's a topic for another day."

"We haven't got a car, either," said Peter.

Sirius grinned and slapped Peter on the back. "See what I mean? It can't be all that uncommon. Thanks Peter!"

"You're welcome!" said Peter, beaming.

Remus found both James and Sirius's home lives to be nearly as interesting as Sirius found his. Both of their families were very rich and powerful, yet also very different. From what Remus could gather, the Blacks were one of the prominent families of the high circles in the wizarding upper class; the Potters, on the other hand, didn't seem to have much to do with many of those families and, thus, remained somewhat of a mystery. James's father had apparently built his fortune in the potions sector. It became clear by the first or second night that James was quite spoiled at home, and only Sirius had the nerve to tell him to shut up about the top-of-the-line broomstick that was sitting in his bedroom at the moment. James hadn't mentioned it again since.

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed almost naïve at times about the realities of the wizarding world and its interactions with its Muggle counterpart. Remus was quietly impressed with the way he just soaked in Hogwarts in the first week, ignoring the Slytherins who hissed at him as he walked by and making casual quips at those who quoted his mother's Howler to him. But there seemed to be something else below his joking, mischievous demeanor, and from time to time, Remus would catch a look on the boy's face that was at once defiant and terrified. It never lasted long, usually melting into some sort of boisterous laugher within seconds, but Remus was sure that it had been there.

Neither James nor Sirius ever talked to Peter much, and Remus could tell that they were both becoming annoyed with their tagalong. Remus didn't mind Peter at all and even felt a bit sorry for him. Never having had a friend before, Remus knew what it was like to feel out of place. He found Peter to be nice to have a conversation with when he wasn't nervous for some reason, and to be surprisingly adept at researching the spells they would need for their prank. His ability to remember random tidbits and spells outstripped that of the other three, though his magical skills were not quite up to their standard.

But a small voice in Remus's head kept telling him that what they were doing was wrong. Technically, they hadn't yet broken any school rules, but they were planning on breaking about ten of them in one go, all to get revenge on someone Remus didn't really even know. Sure, Snape had hexed James and Peter in the corridor on that first day, and honestly, the amount of sheer loathing he harbored for James and Sirius already was slightly unbelievable to Remus, but other than a few hexes and nasty glares, he hadn't done much to deserve what they were going to do to him.

And then there was the other voice, this one not as small as the first, which sounded disturbingly like Remus's father. His father had warned him about getting close to other students. If anyone found out his secret, there would be no recourse. It was imperative, Lyall Lupin had said, that Remus keep his distance and keep his head down. It had been nothing short of a miracle that Remus was admitted to Hogwarts, and not only was he not heeding his father's advice, but he was doing so while breaking school rules. If they were caught, if he was expelled, would Remus ever be able to face his father again?

Nevertheless, Remus continued writing notes to his friends in class (he had _friends?_ ), researching spells and charms that were handy, if nothing else, and spending an absurd amount of time observing Snape's movements and eating patterns. As Sirius had said one evening over dinner, "The predator should know what the prey tastes like before pouncing."

After that, they all had lost their appetites and left dinner early.

They had opted early on to have the prank take place in the Great Hall, where it would do the most damage. Having finally finished their research on the second Saturday of term, they had decided to wait until that Monday to do it, as they wanted the extra day to double-check all of their spellwork.

"Boys, I think we've done it," said Sirius on Sunday night. He collapsed backwards onto his bed, his hands behind his head, grinning.

Remus, sitting cross-legged on his own bed, flipped a page in the book he was poring over and furrowed his brow. "Hold on, we might still need…"

"Remus, you've got that Imperturbable Charm down. Stop worrying so much," said Sirius, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

Remus ran his finger down the list they had made. "James, the potion is ready?" James nodded. "You added the lacewing flies?"

"Yep, added them right before dinner."

"Good. Okay, Peter, you have the belladonna roots chopped for tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Peter, changing into his pajamas. "They're chopped and ready to be added."

Remus snapped the book shut and grinned at the other boys. "Then I think we're good to go."

"Hallelujah," Sirius said dryly, raising one triumphant fist so that it pointed straight up from his bed toward the ceiling. "It's about time, too. I'm not too keen on all the time we've spent in the library lately when we could have been doing other things."

"Like what?" asked James, throwing a chocolate frog to each of them. "What's better than getting revenge on Snivellus for being such a nasty git?"

Sirius unwrapped his frog and bit its head off. "Well nothing, I suppose. It'll all be worth it tomorrow. But we need to go exploring more. We haven't found anything except for the kitchens. I'm sure there are plenty of other secret passageways and rooms to find in this place." He paused, and looked at the card that had fallen out of his wrapper. "Dumbledore again," he said, offering it out to James. "Want it?"

James shook his head, but Peter piped up. "I'll take it! I have loads of Dumbledores. I like collecting him."

Sirius sat up and tossed the card toward Peter, but it fluttered to the floor halfway between the two beds, so Peter hurried over to pick it up.

"We should go tomorrow night," James said, his eyes suddenly gleaming with the same excitement they had when he talked about getting revenge on Snape. "Exploring, I mean. We can go as a celebration of the brilliant execution of our masterful plan!"

Both Sirius and Peter laughed and agreed at once, but Remus shifted nervously. They were planning on breaking _more_ rules tomorrow night? Should he try to get out of it? More importantly, did he want to get out of it?

"And we should start testing the mirrors to find that passage to Hogsmeade," said Sirius, now beginning to change into his nightclothes. "I was thinking –"

But he cut off abruptly when the dormitory door opened and Goomer strode in. He smiled at them all, walked over to his trunk, and began rummaging around in it. James hopped off of his bed and inconspicuously pushed the small cauldron full of potion out of sight beneath the bed.

"What have you been up to, Goomer?" he asked, throwing his chocolate frog wrapper on the floor and scrounging up another one.

"Down in the common room with Raeanne and Mary, working on that impossible Charms essay. You lot finished it yet?"

"That thing?" said Sirius. "Oh we finished that yesterday. It didn't take us long."

Goomer, now clad in his pajamas, jumped into his bed and pulled the curtains around him. "Well I wish I had known that before. Took us near all night to finish it. Oh well, next time I'll know. G'night!"

The others bid goodnight to their roommate before meeting each other's eyes and breaking into stifled laughter. Ten minutes later, when all of their curtains were closed and they were left staring into the darkness, Remus rubbed his stomach muscles gingerly. He couldn't remember ever before having laughed so hard that his stomach muscles ached. He grinned, thinking that even if they didn't pull off their prank the next day, it had all been worth it anyway.

* * *

Sirius awoke the next morning when the sky was still a deep pink, lit by a crimson sun. At first, he couldn't remember why he needed to get up so early, and it took him a few moments before he remembered that today was the day. He jumped out of bed, landing ungracefully on the floor when his foot got tangled in the sheets, and bounded over to James's bed. With a quick throw of the red curtains, he revealed a tousle-headed James curled into a tight ball under his blankets.

"James!" he said, trying his best to keep his voice quiet in his excitement. "James, wake up!"

James just groaned and snuggled deeper into his blankets. Struck with inspiration, Sirius grabbed his wand from his bedside cabinet and pointed it at the untidy black hair.

" _Aguamenti!_ " he said, grinning. He was starting to really like this charm.

A jet of cold water streamed from the tip of his wand onto James's head. With a howl, James sprang up, water dripping from his hair into his eyes and down his neck.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he asked Sirius, scowling as he fumbled on his cabinet for his glasses.

"Let's go!" said Sirius impatiently.

The realization of what day it was hit James and his scowl turned into a devilish smile. He started digging savagely through his trunk as Sirius turned to wake Peter and Remus as well, although he didn't have to go very far, as both had been woken by James's shout and were already climbing out of their beds.

Fifteen minutes later, the boys were all robed, dry, and trying their best to act naturally as they made their way down to the kitchens. James had transferred the potion from the small cauldron under his bed to a sealed bottle that now rested securely in his bag. They had thought it would have been a bit of a giveaway if anyone had seen them carrying a cauldron full of bubbling fuchsia potion down to the kitchens.

Seeing as the sun hadn't even fully risen over the horizon yet, the castle was relatively quiet, though they had to duck behind a statue of Boris the Bewildered when the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle, slouched past, carrying an armful of what looked to be very painful whips. They met no one else in the corridors until they were only two turns away from the painting of the bowl of fruit and they took a corner to find none other than Sirius's cousin Narcissa and Rabastan Lestrange, a third-year Slytherin, walking down the corridor straight toward them. The boys froze, but it was too late. The pair had spotted them and there was no way to avoid them without looking incredibly suspicious.

Rabastan's eyes narrowed as they swept over the group, but Narcissa just smirked at Sirius and continued walking straight at them. She stopped a few steps in front of them, her eyes locked with Sirius's, who felt a strong urge to roll his own.

Instead, he forced a smile. "Hi, 'Cissa."

Her smirk widened as she surveyed the others, her gaze lingering a bit on James. "And what are four young _Gryffindors_ doing around the castle so early in the morning?"

"I was going to ask the same of you, but then I remembered that I couldn't give a piss about what you do with your time, so I guess I'll see you later." Sirius tried to move around them, but Lestrange stepped forward, blocking his way. "Can I help you with something, Lestrange?"

Lestrange said nothing, but just looked to Narcissa, who didn't appear quite so smirky anymore.

"Can I speak with you alone, Sirius?" she asked, throwing another glance at James, Remus, and Peter.

"No."

Narcissa blinked before placing her smirk securely back in place. "Fine. Well I was going to tell you that I saw your mother the other day, here in the castle."

"You saw my – wait, _what_?"

"You didn't know?" His confusion seemed to please Narcissa. Her grin widened. "She demanded a meeting with Dumbledore. Told him he had to re-sort you or she'd go straight to the Board of Governors."

"She can't do that!"

"Well, Dumbledore refused her so we'll see what she can or cannot do, won't we? Either way, it's obvious that your decision to be in Gryffindor –"

"I didn't _decide!_ The hat put me there!"

"– is going to send your mother to an early grave. She told me to tell you to not bother coming home for Christmas or Easter, because she can't stomach having a blood traitor in her house."

Sirius fixed his face into what he hoped was an impassive expression and took a few deep breaths before saying, "Sounds good." Pushing his way past Lestrange, he stalked off down the corridor with his friends hurrying along behind him.

He had been a Gryffindor for almost two weeks and had fallen into a state of blissful denial that his mother would be able to act on her threat to have him re-sorted. On his very first morning at Hogwarts, his cousin Andromeda had warned him that Walburga Black would do everything in her considerable power to get her son into Slytherin, but then there had been nothing. No more Howlers, no getting called to Dumbledore's office, no talk at all of re-sorting. Sirius had been naïve enough to hope the matter was dropped, and to find out that his mother had been to the school and had taken a meeting with Dumbledore was unsettling, to say the least.

No one spoke until they reached the painting of the fruit bowl, at which point Sirius leaned his forehead against the wall, hoping the coolness of the stone might help to clear it, and James doubled back to make sure no one was coming. Remus was giving Sirius an uncomfortable, pitying look, which Sirius tried to ignore.

"Are you okay, Sirius?"

So much for ignoring it. He instead tried to make himself come off as surprised by the question.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Remus shifted. "It's just…your cousin…"

"She's full of it. They can't re-sort me. I'd like to see them try."

Remus still did not look convinced. "But…the things she said…well they weren't exactly nice…"

James tickled the picture of the pear and pulled at the door handle that had formed, opening the entrance to the kitchens. He looked back at the others.

"Sirius knows better than to let anything a Slytherin has to say affect him. They're all scum…every single slimy one of them."

They entered the kitchens, which were bustling with house elves trying to prepare the usual delicious breakfast. Several ran up to the boys, bowing low and offering their services. Sirius, however, barely registered them. He was staring off at nothing in particular, excitement starting to pump toward his fingertips as a devilish idea took hold.

"You're exactly right, James," he said, grinning so broadly that the others just stared. "Every single Slytherin I've ever known – and that's my entire family, mind you – is slimy and nasty. I reckon it's about time they get what they deserve, don't you think?"

Peter looked confused. "Isn't that what we're here for? To get revenge on Snivellus?"

Sirius nodded slowly. "Just how much potion do we have, James?"

James seemed to get the message, as a similar grin broke across his features as well. "Plenty," he said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

When the boys sat down in their usual spots at the Gryffindor table a little while later, all of them wore nervous smiles on their faces. They were a bit earlier than normal for breakfast, but were pleased to see that the Great Hall was filling up quickly with sleepy students. Sirius piled his plate with bacon and eggs like usual, but just prodded at them with his fork. He didn't have much of an appetite this morning. No one spoke very much, but their eyes kept flickering over to the Slytherin table nervously.

"I think this might have been a bad idea," whispered Peter. "You know, getting all of them. Now every Slytherin is going to hate us."

"So?" said James, smirking.

"It's all in good fun," Sirius said lightly. His eyes were following Narcissa as she made her way haughtily toward her seat at the Slytherin table. Their conversation in the corridor had crystallized something for him – he didn't want to be a Slytherin, that much was obvious, but he intended to make sure, quite sure, that everyone else knew it too. His mother could take meetings with Dumbledore and the Board of Governors and the Minister of Magic himself for all Sirius cared; he was a Gryffindor, and he would stay a Gryffindor.

"Hey, look, there's Snivellus!"

Sirius's head snapped around at James's words. Sure enough, Snape was slouching his way toward the end of the table, where he always sat with the other Slytherin first years.

"How much time do we have?"

Remus glanced at his watch. "Three minutes and counting," he said, and Sirius was happy to see that he didn't look nearly as nervous as Peter, whose hand was shaking so badly he could barely hold his fork. He fought the urge to roll his eyes and was just about to ask Peter why he was doing this with them at all when Ginuine Leigh plopped down in the seat across from him, right next to Peter.

All four boys stared at her.

"Hello," she said, smiling pleasantly and putting some sausage on her plate. She said nothing else, but proceeded to chew slowly, as if it were completely normal for her to be sitting with them.

The boys all exchanged a wide-eyed look. What was she doing there? And why in the world did she have to pick such a crucial moment to become friendly with them?

"Erm, hi," said James awkwardly.

Sirius didn't beat around the bush as much. "Why are you sitting with us?"

Gin turned to him and raised her eyebrows. "Because, obviously, I just couldn't resist your charm, Sirius," she said. The others sniggered, but Sirius just narrowed his eyes.

"Other friends sick of you, Gin?" he asked, keeping his tone pleasant.

Gin blinked at him. "I wasn't under the impression that it was against the law to have more than one group of friends."

Sirius ignored her, which she didn't seem to mind, as she just went back to chewing her sausage and staring off into space. Remus was giving him the signal. He had to do it; there was no way around it. He was the only one who had learned this particular spell, and if he didn't do it in the sixty-second time block, the potion would wear off and all their hard work would have been for nothing. He threw a desperate look at his friends. He couldn't do it with Gin sitting right in front of him, staring off over his shoulder. What if she saw?

James cleared his throat. "So, er, Gin," he said quickly, trying to get her attention. "Have you finished that Charms essay?"

Gin looked at him. "Oh yes, it wasn't too bad."

She then went back to her sausage. Apparently, that was all she had to say about the matter.

James shrugged his shoulders at Sirius, a frantic look on his face. None of them knew what to do, and if she wasn't distracted by something – anything – she would know exactly what was going on.

Peter scrunched up his face tightly, took a deep breath, and swung his hand clumsily across the table, knocking a goblet full of pumpkin juice right into Gin's lap. She gasped and jumped up, trying to get the ice-cold juice off of her robes. Sirius clutched his wand under the table. This was it. He only had one shot. Gin was still standing, trying to wipe her robes off with the napkins Peter was handing to her while he stuttered apology after apology.

" _Activus_ ," Sirius muttered under his breath, every particle of his being concentrating on the spell at hand. He felt something whoosh out of the tip of his wand and watched as hundreds of tiny, light pink specks of dust dispersed above the Slytherin table. They were so light that they were practically translucent, which was a wonderful thing, as no one even seemed to notice them.

Sirius nodded at Remus and James (Peter was still attempting to help Gin), indicating he had done it. Remus let out a long breath and James grinned eagerly, trying to get a better view of the Slytherin table.

"It's okay, really," said Gin, who was pushing Peter's hands away from her robes and trying to sit back down. "It's just pumpkin juice; it will come straight out."

Peter sat back down and looked at Sirius, who nodded and smiled at him gratefully. Peter smiled back before turning to look at the Slytherin table in anticipation. Sirius watched the pink dust particles float lazily down on top of the table. This was it.

Any second now…

And then it happened. There was a shriek from the end of the table where Narcissa and Lestrange sat. Every head in the hall turned to look as several of the Slytherins jumped up in shock, rubbing frantically at their hands and faces, which were turning lurid, neon pink. Every Slytherin – from their hair down to their feet – was suddenly the color of disgustingly bright bubblegum.

And then there was Snape.

Snape was just as pink as the rest of his classmates, but he hadn't jumped up from the table like they had because he was no longer able to. He was now floating about five feet above the table in the middle of an enormous pink bubble. Sirius watched as Snape took out his wand, aiming spell after spell at the interior of the bubble, but they had made sure that no spell could break through the Imperturbable Charm they had placed on it. Perhaps coming to this realization, Snape threw his wand aside and started pounding at the bubble with his fists, trying to find some release.

The Great Hall was in an uproar. The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and especially the Gryffindors were all laughing hysterically at the reactions of the Slytherins. Some of them had fled the hall, many of the girls had burst into tears after attempting unsuccessfully to rub the color off of their skin, and a few hulking Slytherin boys hadn't seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary, but just continued digging into their breakfasts.

No one, however, was laughing as hard as the four first years at the end of the Gryffindor table. Sirius was actually starting to feel ill from laughing so hard. He looked over at his friends to see that James was laying his head on the table, Peter's shoulders were shaking almost convulsively, and Remus had his face hidden in his hands. He reluctantly turned to Gin, who was staring at the four of them with a strange smile on her face.

Snape was now trying to scratch his way out of the bubble, which was floating higher and higher toward the cloudy grey ceiling. The professors had descended upon the Slytherin table, attempting to calm the hysterical pink students and usher them out of the hall. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Dumbledore himself were all shooting spells up at the bobbing pink bubble, but all of them seemed hesitant to pop the bubble and cause Snape to fall back down. Apparently, they came to a consensus to lower the sphere to the ground and roll it out into the entrance hall, away from the laughter of the rest of the school. When the bubble reached the ground safely, Sirius saw (with a pang of nervousness) Snape turn and look directly at the four of them, his pink face etched with the most powerful expression of hatred Sirius had ever seen.

"He knows we did it," Sirius whispered to the others when Gin's back was turned.

"Of course he does, after what happened on the train and all," said James, still giggling tiredly. "But we made it so that he would know, right?"

"It's not like they have any proof it was us," whispered Peter, wiping his eyes with the corner of his napkin.

"Come on," Remus said. "Let's get out of here, just in case he says something to McGonagall."

The boys got up from the table, leaving Gin sitting there and still watching them with that funny little smile on her face. Most of the Slytherins were gone, having either run out of the Great Hall in a panic or else having been escorted out by a professor. Many of the other students had calmed down and had departed for their first lessons of the day, but there still seemed to be more laughter flittering around than normal.

When they reached the entrance hall, they caught a glimpse of McGonagall and Dumbledore rolling the bubble around the corner and another outbreak of laughter overtook them. They laughed the entire way to the dungeons, trying their bests to stifle the sound, but with little success. They collapsed in their seats when they reached the Potions classroom – which was thankfully empty – and started happily rehashing the events of breakfast.

"And did you see his face when the bubble started floating up off the ground?"

"He looked like he was crying for his mummy…"

"And the way he tried to scratch his way out of that thing?"

The boys quickly shut up when the door opened and Lily, Adin, and Gin walked into the room. Adin and Gin took their seats next to Peter and Sirius while Lily, looking rather distressed, sat down in her spot near the front. She glanced at Snape's empty seat before turning around and looking at her classmates.

"Do you guys think that Severus will be able to make it to the lesson?" she asked them.

James shrugged. "Who cares?"

"I doubt it, Lily," said Sirius, doing his best to keep a straight face. "There isn't room in the dungeon for his new pink home."

Everyone but Lily laughed, even Gin. Lily frowned at the boys before turning her back resolutely on them with a huff.

The door opened again and they all turned, expecting to see a few bright pink Slytherins, but instead, Raeanne, Mary, and Goomer came in and took their seats as well. The Gryffindors sat there happily, wondering who had been behind the prank (Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter all tried their best to look innocent, but Sirius did catch that same funny smile back on Gin's face when the subject was broached) and taking bets on what shade the Slytherins had become at the moment. Lily flipped through her Potions book, resolutely ignoring the entire conversation.

About ten minutes later, the door banged open once more, and Slughorn waddled into the room. He was dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief that perfectly matched his waistcoat, looking distinctly frazzled. He surveyed them all hastily before harrumphing and saying, "I need to get back to the hospital wing to keep an eye on my students. The lesson has been cancelled for today. Review color-changing potions for next class, which, if I may be so bold, is quite appropriate in such circumstances…"

And he left the room without another word.

The Gryffindors just stared at the door for a moment in shock before Sirius clapped his hands together once, jumped up from his table, and made his way to the door out of which Slughorn had just exited. The others followed and within seconds, Sirius was walking back to the common room with James, Remus, and Peter, amazed at their good fortune.

"So let me get this straight," said James gleefully. "Not only did we successfully pull off a massive prank on Snivellus and all his Slytherin cronies, but we get to skip Potions today too? This is brilliant!"

Peter nodded, hustling to keep stride. "We should do this every day!"

The others just laughed and shook their heads. For the first time since they had met, Sirius didn't feel a twinge of annoyance at Peter's stupid remark. It had been Peter, after all, who had rescued them with his pumpkin juice. Remus seemed to be thinking on the same page as Sirius, as he smiled kindly at Peter and said, "Hey, Peter, well done with the…er…distraction and all."

Peter reddened, but looked quite pleased. Sirius cuffed him on the shoulder. "Yeah mate, that was some good thinking back there."

"Thanks Sirius!"

"Amortentia," James told the Fat Lady when they reached the portrait hole. Sirius was about to follow his friends through the hole when he felt something pulling at his sleeve. He turned to find Gin standing behind him, pulling him away from the common room entrance.

"I need to talk to you," she said as the Fat Lady swung closed in front of them.

Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Yes?"

She licked her lips nervously for a moment before saying in a low voice, "I know it was you guys."

Sirius did his best to look innocently confused. "What was us guys?"

"Stupid doesn't become you, Sirius. I know you and the others were the ones who turned the Slytherins pink this morning and did...that bubble thing…to Snape."

Sirius tried to remain calm. He didn't know Gin well enough to know whether or not she would shop them out. He crossed his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She just rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone…yet."

Sirius sighed. "What do you want from me?"

"Oh I don't know," she said, a smirk pulling at her lips. "I'll let you know when I decide." She turned, murmured the password to the Fat Lady, and climbed into the common room.

The painting swung closed, leaving Sirius alone in the corridor, staring openmouthed at the place where she had just disappeared.


	5. 1-5 or 'Before the Moon Rises'

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews, they mean a lot! To answer one question, the story should pick up the pace more after this chapter. There will be some periods where it moves along very quickly, and others where it's slower. The first year, for reference, is ten chapters. I will probably be posting closer to once a week moving forward.

Now, onto a chapter I like quite a lot. It's a Remus-centric one, poor boy. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 5 - 1.5 or "Before the Moon Rises"**

The remainder of the morning passed in fits of laughter, turns of anxiousness, and pangs of guilt for Remus. Hogwarts could not seem to talk of anything other than the prank on the Slytherins. Everywhere they went, the boys only heard more students retelling the story, laughing about it, or else speculating with one another about who was behind it. Remus tried to steer clear of these conversations, for every time he would overhear one, he'd have the distinct feeling that there was something very slimy and wriggly trying to escape from the pit of his stomach.

It was after their would-be second lesson of the day, Transfiguration, that Remus thought it was all going to crash down around them. They had spent the hour attempting Switching Spells, which he hadn't quite mastered yet. He had just managed to make his mouse (whose tail he was supposed to be switching with a string of yarn) stop hiccuping when the bell rang. He, James, Peter, and Sirius were halfway to the door when Professor McGonagall called for them.

"You four," her stern voice rang out from the front of the room. The boys froze. "Potter, Lupin, Black, and Pettigrew. I'd like to speak with the four of you for a moment."

Remus felt as if he might faint. A look toward his friends told him that they all had the same horrified expressions on their faces as he assumed he did. As if walking toward a death sentence, they turned and slowly approached the front of the classroom.

McGonagall surveyed them all for a moment before speaking again. "I have received word from Mr. Snape –"

"Who, Professor?" said Sirius quickly.

"Severus Snape," said McGonagall, and Remus would have found the innocent expression on Sirius's face much funnier had the situation not been so dire. "The young man who was at the center of the…incident…this morning at breakfast."

Remus chanced a glance at James, who looked to be fighting back a smile.

"Mr. Snape tells me that he believes the four of you were behind the events of this morning."

A heavy silence fell across them as McGonagall awaited some sort of response, or, perhaps, a confession. Remus did his best to keep his legs from shaking. This was it. They were going to be expelled. He had wanted to come to Hogwarts his entire life, and now that he had actually – miraculously – gotten the opportunity, he had barely lasted two weeks. He was weak. He was weak enough to allow two boys he barely knew to rope him into pulling pranks and causing trouble, all for the feeble, glimmering light of potential friendships he should not have had in the first place.

What would his parents say?

"Professor," said Sirius, and he alone looked incredibly calm. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand why Mr. Snape would believe that. How would we know how to do all those spells and tricks? We've only been here for two weeks!"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Sirius, as though attempting to size him up. "Be that as it may," she said slowly, "I shall be keeping an eye on the four of you –"

"Thank you, Professor," interrupted Sirius cheerfully. "If that Mr. Snape is making unfounded accusations towards us, it's a relief to know you'll be watching out for us."

There was a noise that sounded like a cross between a sneeze and a hiccup as James tried unsuccessfully to cover his laugh. McGonagall's lips pulled into a thin line and Remus got the impression that very few people – and, particularly, very few cheeky first years – ever interrupted Professor Minerva McGonagall.

"Potter and Black," she continued, her tone icier than it had been previously, "you have both already been assigned one detention. You are all Gryffindors, and I expect you to behave like Gryffindors from now on. If I hear differently, I guarantee that you will regret it. You may go."

Amazed that they hadn't been further punished, the boys hastily exited the classroom and made a beeline for the Great Hall.

"That was close," said Peter, who looked quite pale.

"Nah," said James. "They don't have any proof it was us. Good going in there, Sirius, by the way."

Sirius shrugged and grinned as they entered the Great Hall and took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. "There's no way the teachers would think that a bunch of first years could have pulled off something like that. We have youth on our side, lads."

"Hey, look over at the Slytherins!" said James.

Remus turned toward the opposite table, which was inhabited by a slew of pale pink students. It appeared as if the neon pink from that morning had faded a bit, but the hue was still noticeable. Severus Snape was nowhere in sight.

"Mad, isn't it?" said a voice from Remus's other side. They all turned to find a Hufflepuff who Remus recognized as Ev Linney standing near them, gazing over at the Slytherin table. She grinned at Sirius and James. "Brilliant prank, boys."

James just sputtered while Sirius grinned up at her. "Have you been talking with Gin, by chance?"

"Nope," said Ev. "I figured it out all on my own, in fact. Don't worry, I won't tell."

And with that, she left to go say hello to Gin.

"How does she know?" whispered Peter.

Sirius did not appear concerned. "Gin Leigh knows too. They were in the compartment with James and me on the train, so they must have just sussed it out, I guess."

James shook his head solemnly, staring down the length of the Gryffindor table toward the girls. "These girls…they know more than what's good for them."

Remus sighed and started digging into the turkey that he had loaded onto his plate. "Well, at least they said they won't tell anyone."

And yet, somehow, by afternoon break, almost the entire student population seemed to know that a group of Gryffindor first years had been responsible for the prank on the Slytherins that morning.

By the time the boys had finished dinner that night and had returned to the Gryffindor common room to start their Potions essay, Remus was so tired he could barely think straight. All he wanted to do was to finish his assignment and crawl into his bed. Sirius, however, had other things on his mind.

"So what time are we going to go exploring?"

Remus blotted his parchment in surprise and looked up at the others. "What?" he asked, praying that he had heard wrong.

"Well we pulled off our prank on Snivellus and we didn't even get punished for it," said Sirius, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "So it's time to celebrate by exploring the castle some more."

"Can we go now?" asked Peter, setting down his quill and looking ready to run out of the portrait hole at that very moment.

James scoffed. "What's the fun in going now? Everyone's still out there."

"We have to go after curfew," agreed Sirius.

Remus sank low in his chair. He had completely forgotten about their plan to go explore more of the castle's depths in celebration of their prank. He had to figure out some way to get out of this without disappointing them. Weak or not, there was no way he was going to break more school rules in one day. McGonagall was already onto them. They had skirted punishment enough and he wasn't taking any more chances. There was no way he was going to go exploring after curfew…absolutely no way.

And yet, only a few short hours later, Remus found himself standing guard alongside James in a dark, sixth floor corridor. A creaky door across from them opened and a dark form that resembled Sirius's head popped out from it, squinting into the blackness.

"Coast is clear?" he whispered.

James straightened from where he had been leaning against the corridor wall. "Coast is clear, come on out." The door opened a bit wider and Remus could just make out the shapes of Sirius and Peter emerging into the corridor alongside them. "Any luck?"

"No," Sirius sighed. "We tried all of the mirrors in there and nothing."

"Why do girls' lavs have so many mirrors?" asked Peter crossly. "The boys' lavs don't have nearly that many."

"Come on," James said, ignoring the question. "Let's try this way."

As they turned to start walking through the darkness, there was a crunch and a muffled oath from Sirius. "Ouch, Peter, watch where you're going!"

"Sorry!"

Peter's short form was barely discernible bobbing around somewhere behind Sirius. Remus had originally suggested lighting their wands in order to prevent bodily harm, but James had shot the idea down at once, saying it would be a dead giveaway to any professors who were walking around (or "keeping a close eye on them" interrupted Sirius) if they lit their wands. So instead, the four boys had been wandering the moonlit corridors for over an hour looking for the mirror-guarded Hogsmeade secret passageway but discovering not so much as a secret mouse hole.

"This is pointless," Sirius said after another ten minutes of walking. "How are we supposed to find anything if we can't even see where we're walking? We could have strolled past the mirror three times without ever seeing it." He stopped suddenly, and another loud thump told Remus that Peter had once again run into him.

" _Lumos_." A bright light jetted from the end of Sirius's wand and showed him to be rubbing his head, glaring at Peter.

Remus took advantage of the light to examine his surroundings. They were in a long corridor, on one side lined with enormous portraits of grumpy-looking goblins, on the other lined with long, narrow windows that opened to the dark sky. Through one of the windows, the waxing moon was visible. Remus shuttered and looked away, an unwelcome and terribly familiar little voice in his head whispering, " _Four days_ …"

The boys walked on, their speed steadier now that they didn't keep bumping into one another. Remus was just getting up the nerve to suggest that they find their way back to the common room when Peter, who had stopped briefly to lean against a solid stone wall, disappeared straight through said wall.

"Peter!" cried James.

The three of them ran over to where he had disappeared, examining the wall frantically.

"Hello?" Peter's voice sounded much higher-pitched than normal. "Guys? Where did you go?"

Sirius moved forward cautiously with his hand outstretched and attempted to press his palm flat against the stone, but found himself touching nothing at all.

"What the…"

"It's not a wall!" said James, as he, too, reached his hand out and put it straight through. "It's just solid air, pretending to be a wall!" And without another word, he stepped forward into it. "Brilliant!" came James's voice from the other side. "I think it's a secret passageway!"

Sirius bounded forward and disappeared as well, leaving Remus feeling mighty alone in the long dark corridor.

"Remus! Get in here!" said Sirius's voice.

He looked around nervously. One of the goblins in the portrait nearest him seemed to be watching him with interest. He gulped.

"W-wait for me!"

Taking a deep breath, Remus stepped forward into what appeared to be the solid stone wall, but instead of hitting his nose, he walked straight through it. Sirius, James, and Peter were grinning at him from inside a very cramped, narrow passage.

"Come on," James said, staring off in the opposite direction. "Let's see where it comes out."

The passage turned out to be quite short; the boys emerged from behind a painting of a banshee only moments later. They looked around, surprised to find themselves in the Charms corridor.

"Well that could come in handy," said Sirius, grinning. In the small pool of light, Remus saw that Peter appeared to be very pleased with himself.

The four walked on, Sirius and James inspired by their find and determined to discover more of the castle's secrets. Peter hurried in their wake, using his hands to feel along the stone walls in order to make sure there was nothing else masquerading as something it wasn't. Remus trudged along next to James, thinking longingly of his warm four-poster. They turned a corner into a corridor that looked relatively familiar to Remus, but he couldn't place it. Sirius held his wand high over his head, elongating the pool of light they were standing in.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

"I think we're near the hospital wing," said James, looking around curiously. "I remember seeing it somewhere near –"

"Shhh!"

James was cut off abruptly when Sirius's free hand clamped over his mouth. A second later, Remus realized exactly why Sirius had shut him up. There was the unmistakable sound of soft footsteps drawing near to them.

"Who's there?" The croaky whisper seemed to bounce around the corridor walls as though it had been bellowed. "Apollyon? Is that you?"

Sirius extinguished the light of his wand immediately, but the nearly-full moon lit the hallway enough so that their outlines were clearly visible.

"What do we do?" Remus asked, frantically. He didn't know how many more of these situations he could get in before his heart gave out. Being friends with James and Sirius exhausted his nerves.

"Quick!" said Peter, whose dark shape was trembling slightly. "The incantation for the Hue Alteration Charm we practiced! The one that we decided wasn't strong enough for Snivellus. It was something like…like ' _Galbinus_ ,' wasn't it?"

Remus wracked his brain, trying to catch up to what Peter was talking about. "Erm, yeah, I…I think that sounds right…Peter, what are you doing?"

Even in the semi-darkness, Remus could see Peter scrunch up his face in concentration and point his wand directly at Remus's chest. Before Remus could protest or even move a muscle, the incantation had been uttered and he felt a trickle of cold spread from the tip of the wand touching his chest all the way through his body, from his hairline to his toes.

"Peter!" whispered Sirius vehemently. "What the hell did you just do to Remus?"

The cold that had infiltrated Remus was dissipating slightly. Nothing seemed to have happened. Remus looked in shock at Peter, who was wide-eyed and pale in the moonlight, but no longer trembling.

"I…I –"

"What in the world are you boys doing out of bed at this hour?"

At once, a bright light encompassed them and Remus shielded his eyes. Wincing, he looked up to see that the wand light belonged to none other than their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Eldon, who was staring at them through her one open eye, apparently livid.

"Professor!" Remus felt his heart sink at the squeak in Sirius's voice. He had been hoping that Sirius would once again help to talk their way out of the situation. "We were just…"

"Just what, Mr. Black? What possible excuse do the four of you have for wandering the castle in the dead of the night?"

"Well, you see…we, er…" James faded off, apparently no excuse coming to mind. Remus felt his heart sinking to his toes. They were in for it now.

"Professor," Peter piped up, and Remus turned to stare at him in shock. "You see, we were trying to find the hospital wing. It's Remus here." Everyone turned to stare at Remus, who just looked back at Peter, confused and horrified. "He's really ill. He's been sick since supper. We were trying to get him to Madam Pomfrey!"

Eldon put her wand closer to Remus's face, her left eye examining him closely.

"Dear me!" she said, jumping back a bit. Remus glanced back at Peter, who was nodding in an encouraging manner. "You're so green, Mr. Lupin! What in the world happened?"

Remus swallowed. James was standing behind Eldon, urging Remus on. Sirius was looking between Remus and Peter, wide-eyed.

"Er, I think I ate a rotten Cockroach Cluster after supper tonight." Remus fidgeted, ashamed at his flimsy story. Surely she would never buy that and he would have to endure the disappointed looks of his friends as they all served a year's worth of detentions. He never was good at lying.

But to his wonderful surprise, the old woman just nodded sympathetically. "Well those things can make you ill even when they aren't rotten," she said, ushering them down the corridor and toward the hospital wing. "Go on and see Madam Pomfrey, dear. I'm sure she can give you something to make you feel better."

And later, as Madam Pomfrey poured a lumpy yellow potion that tasted like sprouts down Remus's throat, after Peter had whispered the incantation to get him back to his non-sickly color, Remus distinctly saw both James and Sirius, smiling broadly, clap Peter on the back, and he knew at that moment that all of them were grateful to have Peter Pettigrew as their friend.

The common room was unsurprisingly empty when they arrived back from the hospital wing. It had taken much pleading and bargaining from the boys before Madam Pomfrey had allowed Remus out of her grasp. It was now well after midnight.

"Well it wasn't a complete waste," said James between yawns as they climbed the staircase to the boys' tower. "We did find a secret passage."

They entered the dark dormitory. Loud snores told them that Goomer was fast asleep.

"So when are we going again?" whispered Sirius.

Remus sighed. He had known this was coming and had to admit that although he didn't fancy being hexed to look sickly again, exploring the castle in the dead of the night hadn't been as awful as he had predicted. But he was starting to find, more and more, that anything done in the company of James, Sirius, and Peter was far from awful. Then again, they had broken so many rules in the last week while successfully evading punishment that Remus was starting to suspect that their luck was bound to catch up to them soon.

"How about we continue our search for the Hogsmeade passageway this Saturday night after Quidditch tryouts?" said James. "It'll be our way to celebrate my making the team!"

As Sirius and Peter agreed vehemently, Remus's heart started pounding at an alarming rate. That Saturday would be the full moon, his first full moon at Hogwarts, his first full moon to ever be spent away from his parents. What would he tell his friends? Not only could he not go exploring, but now he had to figure out some sort of excuse to tell them that wouldn't raise suspicion.

"Remus," said Sirius as he climbed into his four-poster, "what do you say, mate?"

Remus nodded slightly and forced a smile, his teeth gritting together in an effort to steady his suddenly trembling muscles. "Sure," he said, hating himself. "Th-that sounds good."

He had barely bade the others good night and closed the curtains around him before the tears started to fall. _Weak_ , the voice in his head hissed at him over and over, in time with the beat of his heart. _Weak…weak…weak_. He would have to lie to the only three people in the world whom he had ever been able to call friends. And it wouldn't stop there. He would have to lie to them again and again, every month for the next seven years.

Ever since he had been bitten, ever since the _before_ , his parents had told him that he was still the same person, that he deserved just as much happiness as every other child, and that the monster that arose every full moon didn't have any control over his life for the other twenty-nine nights of the month. But they were wrong. He was weak. And soon he would be a liar, too. And the idea of lying to James, Sirius, and Peter – not to mention the prospect of lying to them repeatedly – made Remus feel more like a monster than he had ever felt in his life.

His tears quieted after a while, but the voice in his head did not.

* * *

The next four days passed far too quickly for Remus. He and the rest of the Gryffindors spent most of their time after classes in the common room, working through the vast amounts of homework they had been assigned. One evening, Remus, so sick of staring at his History of Magic essay and even more tired of glancing every few seconds at the moon that mocked him from outside the window, suggested that they take a break and get a snack from the kitchens. Sirius and James, who had finished their essays long before, had looked at him proudly; when they returned an hour later, stuffed with chocolate eclairs and custard tarts, Remus finished his essay without glancing out the window once.

For the few days leading up to the Quidditch trials, it seemed that James cared for nothing else. In the evenings, he would scribble down his homework as quickly as possible and then spend the rest of the night with his nose stuck in a Quidditch book or discussing tactics with either Stuart Bones or Jeremiah Peakes, a fourth-year Beater who had taken a liking to James after the prank on the Slytherins. According to James, no first year had been selected for a house team in eighty years, but Peakes was sure he could get the Chaser position if he used the Sloth-Grip Roll they had been discussing. Remus tended to zone out when James would start talking about Quidditch. He liked Quidditch very much, but James would go on for hours if any of them looked too interested.

Saturday morning bloomed in an array of sunshine that made the dormitory much too warm to sleep comfortably in, not that any of the boys would have been able to have a lie in with James bouncing around. He was usually the one they had to pry out of bed in the mornings, but apparently sleep was no match for the excitement that Quidditch brought.

"Oi, James," said Sirius, his voice muffled in his pillow. "You're running round like a Fwooper with its head cut off. Give it a rest, will you?

James threw a pillow at Sirius, who covered his head with it and mumbled something unintelligible.

Remus sighed, thinking that sleep was futile now anyway and wishing very much that it was this time tomorrow. He felt peaky and weak, as he always did when the full moon was approaching. James ran over and pulled back Remus's curtains all the way. Wincing as the bright sunlight hit his eyes, Remus looked up at the excited form of his friend, but James looked down at him, frowning.

"Whoa, Remus, you don't look so good."

Remus forced a smile and stumbled out of bed. There was a desperate ache in his spine when he straightened it, and his legs trembled slightly, but he would not allow himself to show his anguish to the others. If nothing else, they would ask too many questions.

"I'm fine," he said, digging through his trunk for a clean set of robes. "Let's get some breakfast, and then maybe we can go down to the pitch so that we can watch your tryout."

There was a brief flash of concern in James's eyes as he surveyed Remus, but a moment later, he had sprung up onto his own bed and began bouncing up toward the red canopy. "I'm going to be the best Chaser Hogwarts has ever seen! Just you wait, just you wait, just you wait and see!" He sang the last words so loudly that Remus winced, a piercing headache forming behind his eyes.

Sirius again mumbled something vaguely unintelligible from underneath his pillow, though Remus detected a few grumbled swearwords. James hurdled off the bed and pulled Sirius's hangings all the way open before pointing his wand at the prone figure and smirking.

" _Aguamenti_!" he said, and a stream of water flew out of the tip of his wand and onto Sirius's back. Sirius gave a cry and jumped out of bed, scowling at James.

"Finally got that charm down, huh?" he snapped, whipping off his wet shirt and rummaging through his trunk for some wrinkled robes.

James shrugged and sprinted toward the door. "I knew it couldn't be that hard…if _you_ could do it. See you at breakfast!" And with that, he disappeared down the staircase.

Sirius rolled his eyes before looking over at Peter's still slumbering form. He pointed his wand at him, grinning mischievously, and even through his exhaustion, even through the pain in his head and the stiffness in his back, Remus had to laugh.

After a quick breakfast in the Great Hall (Remus's stomach was in knots, and though he tried to force down some porridge, it tasted like clay in his mouth), the boys walked down to the Quidditch pitch. Remus bid James good luck before going to sit in the stands between Sirius and Peter. The stands were surprisingly full of spectators, with students from all houses and years having turned out to watch as about twenty Gryffindors vied for one of the two open spots on the team. James, of course, was hoping for the Chaser position. Remus recognized a few of the people on the field, including Stuart Bones, Jeremiah Peakes, and Fiona Beal, who was the fifth-year captain. The only other first year trying out was Raeanne, which surprised Remus slightly, as this was the first time he had seen her without Goomer and Mary at her side.

The boys had just settled into their seats in the stands and watched as Fiona ordered the hopeful players to fly a lap around the stadium when Peter gave a startled cry, and Remus turned toward him just in time to see his friend lurch forward off of his seat, courtesy of a hard poke to the back of the head. So fixated on the flyers in front of them, none of the boys had even noticed the Slytherins who had taken the seats in the row just behind them. Remus helped Peter to his feet as Sirius jumped up, fumbling for his wand.

"I see you've got used to the sort of riffraff you're forced to hang round as a Gryffindor, Black," said the party guilty of delivering the poke, a sneering Marshall Avery.

"What do you want, Avery?" snapped Sirius, his wand now gripped tightly in his hand. Remus held onto the railing behind him, his head spinning from having jumped up so suddenly.

"We just came out to see what kind of competition Gryffindor would be fielding on the pitch this year," said Avery, who twirled his wand through his fingers. "But I couldn't see much of anything, what with this fat lump sitting in front of me."

Peter turned pink as the other Slytherins laughed cruelly. Remus recognized them all as their fellow first years: Mulciber, with his twisted, pale face; Wilkes, who had nerve to laugh at anyone else's girth; and Evan Rosier, who had blond hair, blue eyes, and looked very much like he couldn't be bothered by the conversation.

"Now don't go blaming Peter for your inability to see," Sirius said. "It must be hard to get a glimpse of anything at all when your head's stuck so far up your own arse."

The wand in Avery's hand ceased its twirling, and his fingers now curled over it as though readying for a fight. As surreptitiously as he could, Remus reached into his robe pocket, fumbling for the handle of his wand, and hoping against hope that he wouldn't be forced into his first duel while standing in the Quidditch bleachers on the morning of a full moon.

"Don't know why that hat put you in Gryffindor, Black. We all know you haven't actually got any guts at all, don't we?"

"Shut your gob, Avery." Sirius had gone very pale, and his wand hand was raising ever so slightly.

"That's it?" said Avery, smiling vindictively. "No witty comeback?"

"Why waste my breath? It's not as though you understand my wit, particularly when I use words that are bigger than one syllable."

"You know," said Avery, his eyes lingering on Remus and Peter, "I wonder what your mother would say if she knew the kind of trash you've been hanging round. Maybe she'd give us all a laugh by treating us to another Howler."

Sirius's wand was now pointing straight at Avery's smirking face. "Call them trash again, you dirty, scum-sucking git, and see what happens."

The other Slytherins also raised their wands, and Remus could feel his legs begin to tremble as nervousness and exhaustion fought for authority within him. With all the confidence he could muster, Remus, too, raised his wand, his other arm still gripping tightly to the railing, his mind desperately trying to think of a spell that might be helpful in this type of situation.

But he needn't have worried.

"Is there a problem here?"

Hestia Jones, the fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, was climbing her way through the seats toward the group of first years, who all lowered their wands hesitantly.

"No problem at all," said Avery in an oily, contemptuous voice.

Hestia sized him up, her eyes lingering over the scene. "These are the Gryffindor stands. If you're here to watch the tryouts, you need to go sit in the Slytherin stands."

"You're joking, right?" Avery snapped. "There's students from every house sitting here."

"And none of them are making a scene," said Hestia calmly. "Remove yourselves, or it will be ten points from Slytherin."

Avery let his eyes travel up and down Hestia's body with all the condescension it seemed he could muster. Then he turned back toward the first years. "Watch your back," he said before turning on his heel and pushing through the stands. The remaining Slytherin boys followed him, all providing varying degrees of glaring and knuckle-cracking as they went.

Hestia returned to her seat after giving Remus and Peter a tight smile, though she ignored Sirius entirely. It was getting difficult to remain standing, so Remus collapsed back into his seat with great relief. His friends took their spots on either side of him, and though they kept silent as they watched the remainder of the tryouts, Remus could feel waves of anger emanating from his left side where Sirius sat.

The trials didn't last very long after that. To Remus's untrained eye, James was a very good flyer, but there was a noticeable problem. The old school broom that he was riding was jerky and had the tendency to fly backwards at random moments, which caused a nasty incident when James accidentally backed straight into a second year by the name of Andrew Adamsly, who had most unfortunately been swinging his Beater's bat at the time and hit James in the back of the head.

After another visit to Madam Pomfrey, who tsked and forced an Anti-Concussion Concoction down James's throat, the boys returned to Gryffindor Tower, where they spent the remainder of the morning lounging listlessly. James was distraught. He stared into the fire and refused to talk to any of them for over an hour.

"Come off it, James," said Sirius irritably. His bad mood was exacerbated by the fact that he didn't seem to enjoy this new, sullen version of his friend. "You'll get on the team next year, for sure."

"But that only leaves me six years of Quidditch!" James moaned.

Around lunchtime, when the majority of the Quidditch team had reentered the common room, having successfully found a new Chaser and Keeper, Stuart Bones made straight for James.

"James," he started, and James looked up hopefully. "How's your head?"

"Fine," James mumbled.

Stuart nodded sympathetically. "No one blames you for what happened, you know. The school brooms are the biggest reason why no first years ever make the team – they're so unreliable."

"It's a crap rule that I can't have my own broom."

"I agree," said Stuart. "It's just tradition, I guess. But I chatted with Fiona, who says that if you keep on form, you're a cinch to make the team next year."

James brightened a bit after that, but still wasn't his normal energetic self. Remus paled when Stuart then turned to him.

"It's Lupin, right?" Remus nodded, heart quickening. "I ran into McGonagall on the way up here. She asked me to tell you that she wants to see you in her office for a moment."

"Why?" asked Sirius.

Stuart shrugged. Remus stood gingerly, as his legs were shaking, but that was from exhaustion now more than nervousness. He knew exactly why McGonagall wanted to see him.

"I'll see you all in a bit," he said, and he made his way through the portrait hole, trying not to sway on his weakened legs.

He was out of breath by the time he made it to McGonagall's office, even though he had been walking at a slow pace. He knocked on the door.

"Enter," said McGonagall's stern voice.

Remus opened the door and walked in, somewhat awkwardly. The office was spacious and orderly, with a tall bookshelf standing behind a handsome desk, where McGonagall sat, sifting through an alarmingly high stack of essays. She looked up when he entered and smiled at him.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, gesturing toward a wooden chair that sat in front of her desk. "Please sit down." Remus obeyed. With a flick of her wand, the door closed gently behind him. "How are you feeling?"

"I – I feel fine, Professor, thank you," he lied.

She surveyed him, and Remus was relieved to see that she didn't show pity. He had no interest in garnering pity from the Hogwarts staff.

"I wanted to speak with you in order to go over the arrangements we have made for this evening, and the subsequent full moons throughout your Hogwarts career."

Remus nodded lamely. McGonagall pointed out the window by her desk toward a large tree that was visible near the edge of the grounds, swaying in the wind.

"Do you see that tree?" Remus nodded again. "That tree is called a Whomping Willow, and it was planted last summer in order to ensure your safety and that of your fellow students during your transformations. This evening, before the moon rises, you will be taken through a tunnel that opens underneath that tree. The tunnel will lead you to an empty house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village, where you will transform and remain until morning. Professor Dumbledore has cast an assortment of protective charms around the house, and the tree's defense mechanisms ensure that no one will come across you while you are in your other state."

Remus stared at his shoes, humiliation burning a hole in his churning stomach. He couldn't believe all the trouble the professors had gone through for his benefit.

 _It's not for your benefit, though_ , the voice in his head told him. _It's for the safety of your classmates…your friends…James, Sirius, and Peter and all the rest of the kids who have no idea how dangerous you are…have no idea that you are a monster._

McGonagall was speaking again, and Remus had to force himself to listen.

"You will need to meet Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing at five o'clock this evening. She shall escort you through the tunnel and then will come and retrieve you in the morning. Do you have any questions?"

Remus shook his head, but kept his mouth shut, suddenly worried that he might be sick all over McGonagall's rug.

McGonagall simply looked at him for a moment. "Then you may leave," she said. Remus rose from his chair and went to open the door, but froze when he heard her voice again. "Oh, and Mr. Lupin?" He turned and looked at her when she did not continue. He still couldn't detect any pity in her eyes, but there was a sadness there that had not been there before. "Good luck."

Remus took a deep breath. "Thank you, Professor."

He thankfully made it to the lavatory on the fourth floor in time to empty the contents of his stomach. After, he sat on the cold hard ground for several minutes with his legs curled into his chest and his cheek resting atop his knees, trying to steady himself before making the trek back up to Gryffindor Tower. His thoughts turned to his parents. For the first time in seven years, they would not be spending the night of the full moon listening to the tortured cries of their only son. He imagined them in the Lupins' small sitting room, his mother knitting and his father reading, neither of them daring to mention their relief at not having to tend to their half-breed son. They would worry, certainly, but it was better for them this way. In the pit of his stomach, Remus longed for the gentle hands of his mother and the calming words of his father, but he was selfish for doing so. They were better – safer – with him hidden away in a house on the edge of Hogsmeade village, separated from the world by Dumbledore's spells and a defensive tree.

After gathering himself and splashing his face with cold water from the tap, he made his way back up to the common room, where he found Sirius, Peter, and James in the exact same spots he had left them in. James had now curled up in his squishy arm chair, his head lolling about over the side of it, staring dispiritedly into the fire.

"What'd McGonagall want?" asked Sirius, the moment Remus had sat down next to them.

"She, er, just wanted to ask me a question about my essay on Switching Spells," he lied quickly, not meeting Sirius's eye.

"What about it?" Sirius pressed. Remus felt his hands start to tremble and hid them instinctively in his pockets.

"I…I f-forgot to cite some sources." He had fumbled through the lie and fully expected Sirius to call him out on it, but the other boy just rolled his eyes.

"If you ask me, all that 'three sources' business is a load of rubbish. A Switching Spell is a Switching Spell, and any wizard with half a wand can do a Switching Spell." Remus noticed Peter turn pink and shift awkwardly in his seat, but Sirius apparently did not notice any such thing. "I mean, really, why does it matter which books spell out how to do it anyway?"

No one answered. Remus was unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, though, admittedly, he didn't want to bring any additional focus to his lie about the essay. James did not appear to be listening to the conversation at all.

"Are we still going exploring tonight?" asked Peter after a moment, and Remus got the distinct impression that he was trying to change the subject.

"I'm not," said James. Sirius and Peter turned to look at him in shock.

"What? Why not?"

James shrugged. "Not in the mood. Maybe another night."

Remus's spirits lifted, albeit barely. At least he wouldn't be messing up his friends' plans anymore.

The rest of the day hurtled toward five o'clock in what seemed like no time at all. Remus tried unsuccessfully to finish his Potions essay, but gave up halfway through in order to embarrassingly lose a game of wizard's chess to a still-irritable Sirius. At quarter to five, he stood up from his spot by the fire. The others looked at him questioningly.

"I…I think I'm going to go see Madam Pomfrey," he said, praying that his excuse would hold. "I'm not feeling too well."

"Yeah, you look a bit green about the gills, mate," said James.

"Want us to come with you?" Sirius asked.

Remus was edging as fast as he could toward the portrait hole. He really didn't want them to think he needed an escort. "No, no, I'll be fine. I'll see you later." He climbed out of the common room without looking back, hoping against hope that they wouldn't follow him.

It took him a solid fifteen minutes to get to the hospital wing, as he had to stop twice to sit down and regain his energy. Madam Pomfrey met him with a tentative smile and the two of them walked across the grounds together in silence, but a few times Remus caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye with a slightly fearful expression. Though his stomach boiled in humiliation, he was far too focused on moving his feet one after another to dwell on it. With every step, his nervousness of what was to come grew.

And before sliding into the tunnel under the Willow, Remus looked up into the darkening sky, wishing more than anything in the world that for just one night, he could trade places with anyone else and leave Remus Lupin behind.


	6. 1-6 or 'Too Clever for Their Own Good'

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews! This chapter's a bit of a departure from the others, so I'm curious to get your thoughts. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - 1.6 or "Two Clever for Their Own Good"**

When Remus left the hospital wing on Sunday evening, he felt no happiness that the full moon had come and gone and that he had made it through once again; instead, he averted his eyes from the tall narrow windows that lined the corridors, trying to block out that hated voice in his head that insisted on whispering, " _Twenty-nine days…"_

He had been sleeping for the majority of the day, hidden behind pristine white curtains that had surrounded his bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal most of the injuries he had sustained the night before; indeed, she had done a much better job at it than Remus's father usually did, but then again, Remus's father wasn't a trained Healer. Madam Pomfrey had access to the very best pain potions and curing concoctions, and Remus, though weak, was feeling substantially better than he normally felt after the full moon. His exhaustion was the biggest factor weighing him down.

The fatigue was so consuming that Remus had only made it two floors up from the hospital wing when he was forced to sit down on an out-of-the-way bench and rest for a moment. He looked at his shoes and mindlessly ran his hand over the one visible mark he had left on himself that month – a puffy red gash that discolored one side of his jaw. Madam Pomfrey had only been able to do so much.

"Squealed like a pig when he saw us coming, didn't he, Rabastan? He must be awfully terrified of you, that little Mudblood swot."

Remus looked up at once at the voice that echoed from the next corridor over. He knew that voice, recognized it from the day before, and he had no interest at all in running into its owner while alone and in a weakened state.

"Shut it, Avery," said a deeper voice that Remus didn't recognize immediately. "You've got to learn when to keep your trap closed. It's a wonder McGonagall didn't put us all in detention."

"Stupid bint," said Avery. "I'd like to see her try."

The voices were approaching from his left and, though it made him hang his head in the shame of his own cowardice, Remus stood as quickly as he could and hurried off to his right. On a good day, he would not be overjoyed to meet a group of Slytherins along a deserted corridor, but he perhaps would not have run away like a frightened kitten. On this day, however, his weariness was such that there was no alternate option. He walked quickly, descending a narrow side staircase onto the fourth floor, and did not stop to rest again until he was certain the Slytherins were not following.

Pausing to lean his back against one of the stone walls, Remus looked around with a nagging worry that he would not now be able to find his way back to Gryffindor Tower. It took him a moment to regain his energy and to mentally remap his route back to the common room, and once he began walking again, he did not stare at his trudging feet, but instead looked at his surroundings curiously. A marble statue of a minotaur stood sentinel on one side of the corridor, next to a portrait of a group of monks who seemed to be quarreling over a chalice of some sort. On the other side of the corridor, a tall mirror hung in an ornately carved, gilded frame. The torchlight bounced off the glass, and Remus paused for a moment to inspect the gash on his jaw, hoping that none of his classmates would notice the wound.

He had walked five or six more steps when the realization overcame him, and he hurriedly retreated back to the large mirror, gazing up at it now with wide eyes. There was his reflection staring back at him – small and pale and wholly unimpressive – but then he raised his wand and the reflection mimicked him, and when he said the incantation and the golden frame popped open like a doorway, the reflection grinned widely, a surge of triumph overtaking its beleaguered features, if only for a moment.

 _"Amortentia,"_ he said to the Fat Lady, not ten minutes later. He had hurried back up to Gryffindor Tower as fast as his shaky legs would carry him, only getting turned around once. The portrait swung open and Remus staggered into the common room, torn between the desire to share his discovery with his friends and the draw of his warm four-poster bed.

"Remus!"

He started and turned to see who was calling him. It was Sirius, who had apparently been sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room with Lily and Adin, but who was now navigating the armchairs and study tables to get to him.

"What happened to you? Are you feeling better? You were gone all day! What'd you do to your face?"

Remus shifted, trying to obscure Sirius's view of his jawline. "I, er, fell out of bed and hit my face on the table."

Sirius frowned in concern. "I didn't take you as the clumsy type."

"I get pretty banged up sometimes," he said softly, sitting down in a vacant armchair nearby to relieve his poor legs. Sirius sat down across from him, looking at him as if expecting more explanation. Remus decided to distract him. "Listen, I've found something. Where are James and Peter?"

"They went down to the kitchens to nick some eclairs. Peter won't shut up about them." The grin on his face faltered as he looked Remus over more closely. "So what happened to you last night? We went down to the hospital wing to see you after you had been gone for a while, but Pomfrey wouldn't let us in. She said you were contagious."

"Yeah, I don't know, something like that," said Remus, thinking that he should probably start working on his lying skills, since he had been doing so much of it lately. "It was just some weird fever thing that I had, but I'm better now for the most part."

Sirius looked skeptical. "Well, you look like hell, mate."

"Thanks, Sirius," said Remus, smiling in spite of himself.

"Anytime. So what was it you found?"

"Oh," said Remus, his exhaustion starting to weigh on him. "Let's wait until James and Peter get back and I'll tell you all in one go."

"All right," Sirius shrugged. Then he brightened. "Hey, we finished that essay for Slughorn, if you want to take a look at it."

"I forgot about that stupid essay," Remus groaned.

Sirius hopped up and made his way toward the boys' staircase, shouting over his shoulder, "Don't worry about it. We got Evans to help us and she's bloody brilliant at Potions."

Lily had apparently heard Sirius's remark. She looked up from her study table and rolled her eyes at him, though she didn't look too upset.

"I _helped_ Adin and then you and Potter went and stole her essay out of her bag. That's hardly me voluntarily helping you, Black."

Sirius pulled the innocent expression that Remus was starting to know all too well.

"Yes, but we appreciate it all the same, Titchy," he said, and then he turned back to Remus. "I'll go grab it. Be right back!"

He had only been gone a few seconds when the portrait hole swung open again and James and Peter climbed through. When they saw that Remus had returned, they both broke into smiles and ran over to talk to him. Even through his exhaustion, Remus smiled hugely back at them, his triumph at having found the secret passage outweighed, at that moment, by the warm glow of having been missed.

* * *

Before any of the first years had realized it, September faded into October, which brought a welcome release from the heat that had plagued them since the start of term. Though all of the boys insisted on inspecting the secret passageway hidden behind the fourth floor mirror following Remus's discovery, they were never able to venture too far down it. Much to the aggravation of James, Sirius, Peter, and even Remus, the much-anticipated trip to Hogsmeade continued to be delayed by circumstances out of their control, not least of which was the alarming amount of time that James and Sirius spent in detention.

The pair was quickly gaining a reputation as the school troublemakers, a distinction that seemed to elate them, but frustrated the majority of their teachers. By October, they had earned a rapid string of detentions that had started the Tuesday after the full moon. James and Sirius had shown up to Charms without their assignments, a fact that did not amuse Professor Flitwick.

"Well you see, sir," began Sirius, quite aware that the entire class was waiting for him to try and talk his way out of it, "we didn't get the chance to finish our essays on the Levitation Charm because we spent all of last night in the Transfiguration classroom, serving our detention with Mickey-G."

Flitwick stared at him, looking utterly confused. "Mickey-G? What is a Mickey-G?"

Sirius had thought this was obvious. "Minnie! Mickey-G! Professor McGonagall!"

He was answered by laughs from his classmates and a lecture about respecting his elders from Flitwick. Most unfortunately, Flitwick then overheard James whisper, "What's the big deal? It's not like he heard us calling Eldon 'Cyclops' or anything."

James and Sirius were rewarded with a week's worth of helping the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle, sharpen his knives and screws with Muggle tools.

In the middle of October, Remus had to leave the castle for what he claimed was his "cousin's wedding." James, Sirius, and Peter were rather confused about why someone would get married on a Tuesday night, but Remus shrugged it off, saying that it was the only time they had been able to book the church. He then went on to describe the Muggle suit that he was being forced to wear, eliciting a solid twenty minutes of questions and laughter from the others, by the end of which, they had forgotten about the strange scheduling, to Remus's enormous relief.

The end of the month brought an exciting event for the four friends – their first Halloween in the castle. As Sirius's twelfth birthday would fall only a few days after, the boys decided that the aptest way to celebrate would be another fantastic prank. Therefore, the week leading up to the Halloween feast was spent mostly in the library, looking up the new spells they would need to pull it off. At first, Sirius grumbled a bit about having to do so much research – it was _his_ birthday, after all – but he seemed to glean extra motivation from an early birthday gift that was delivered by the Black family owl: a leather-bound, first edition copy of _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy,_ with the Black family tree etched into the inside cover.

Sirius had chucked it into the lake on the way to Herbology.

When the school filed into the Great Hall on Halloween night, the students were expecting the usual decorations of floating Jack-o-lanterns, live bats, and cascading streamers. What they got instead was what seemed to be a red and gold explosion.

The enchanted ceiling, which was dark, clear, and void of any moon at all, was raining huge drops of red and gold water, which mercifully vanished before they reached the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables, but which splattered onto the Slytherin table unapologetically. The floating pumpkins were charmed into a deep red, the streamers golden, and the bats a bizarre tie-dye of the two colors; both the bats and the Jack-o-lanterns were bewitched to hiss loudly whenever a Slytherin walked by. Behind the Head table, an enormous banner covered the usual Hogwarts crest, depicting a lion wearing a ruby-ensconced crown and standing atop a badger, eagle, and snake. At the top of the banner, the words, "GRYFFINDOR: KING OF THE CASTLE," were written.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had skived off History of Magic that afternoon in order to sneak into the Great Hall and apply their decorative touches. When the rest of the students poured into the hall, some looking scared, others amused, but mostly just confused, the four boys sat proudly in their seats, admiring their work and eagerly anticipating the finishing touch. The Gryffindors in general were laughing and cheering while the Slytherins tried to ignore all of the hissing emanating from the decorations. The hall fell quiet when Dumbledore walked in, the rest of the professors close behind him. McGonagall, in particular, looked horrified as her eyes surveyed the surroundings.

Before anyone could say anything, there was a loud succession of pops and the Slytherin benches all tipped backward as one, dumping their unsuspecting occupants unceremoniously onto the stone floor. There was a clamor as the other houses laughed and hollered at them, and many of the Slytherins shrieked and groaned as they picked themselves up with as much dignity as possible. Dumbledore had made his way up to behind his normal seat where he stood, surveying the hall and the flustered Slytherins. With a wave of his wand, the rain stopped, the decorations returned to their original colors, the banner once again bore the Hogwarts crest, and the Slytherin benches righted themselves. He smiled calmly at his students, his eyes twinkling.

"Let's eat," he said, clapping his hands twice.

The feast appeared on the tables and the students, all talking a bit louder than usual, didn't wait to dig in, although the Slytherins in particular were inspecting their food suspiciously while casting tentative glances at the now-sturdy benches.

"I think Snivellus likes his little friend," laughed James, loading his plate with roast beef.

The others turned to see Snape swatting at a solitary bat that was flying around his head, hissing into his ears. Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Good idea with that bat, Remus!"

Remus smiled sheepishly and looked down at his plate, uttering a soft, "Thanks."

The feast was the best one that they had been served since the first night of term, and Sirius greatly enjoyed both the food and the thrill of another successful prank. A few times, he let his eyes wander down the table to where Gin Leigh sat with a group of second years he didn't know by name, but at one point, she looked up and caught him off-guard, so he shifted his gaze as quickly as possible down the table to a third year called Didina Murphy, whose long brown hair he had enjoyed looking at since the train ride at the start of term.

All four boys left the Great Hall with their stomachs full and their spirits high with success, though Peter swore that he saw McGonagall watching them more than usual from her perch at the teachers' table.

"Hey…Sirius!"

They all stopped and turned, looking through the crowded corridor for whomever had called him. Sirius felt his stomach flip oddly when he recognized the long, dirty blonde curls at once.

"Hi Gin," he said as she caught up to them and they all began walking again toward the common room.

"I know what I want," she said without preamble.

The others looked at her in confusion, but Sirius simply grinned. For the past month and a half, he had been waiting for her to once again mention her knowledge of the pink bubble prank to him, but she had kept frustratingly silent on the subject. During Potions, where they shared a table, she kept her head down and her focus on her cauldron, responding to his jokes with wry statements of her own, but never initiating conversation. He did not know what to make of her, but he felt a strong, inexplicable urge to press her buttons.

"Good for you, but too much ambition will land you in Slytherin, so I'd recommend avoiding such definitive statements."

She rolled her eyes at this. "Come off it, Sirius," she said as they reached the seventh floor.

"But being on it is so much fun," he shot back, unable to keep his grin from widening. Behind him, James snorted in an embarrassed sort of way. Gin just stared at him with that same unreadable expression she always wore.

"You know where the kitchens are, don't you?" she asked, but it wasn't so much a question as a stated fact.

"No," James cut in quickly. "He doesn't know where they are."

"And he wouldn't tell you even if he did!" said Peter from somewhere behind James. Gin gave him a withering look before climbing through the portrait hole. The boys glanced at one another before following her. She was waiting on the other side, tapping her foot impatiently.

"You owe me one, Sirius," she said, ignoring the others.

Sirius weighed his options. On the one hand, the discovery of the kitchens had been a bit of a bonding experience between him and his friends; telling Gin might be seen as a betrayal. On the other hand, he wouldn't exactly _mind_ taking her down to the kitchens, and he did owe her one. Plus, if she shopped them out to McGonagall, it would be his fault for not stopping her and that would _definitely_ be seen as a betrayal. He decided to stall.

"I owe you? I don't remember ever shaking your hand."

She raised her eyebrows at him and shrugged. "Fine. Be sure to send me a postcard from your permanent spot in detention. I hear Pringle has a whole warehouse full of dull knives and screws that need sharpening."

"You wouldn't actually snitch on us!" said James, appalled. Gin just shrugged again.

"Honestly, James, I don't really care about what the four of you do. You can pull pranks on the rest of the school every single day and it wouldn't bother me. But I do want to find the kitchens. So if you show them to me, I'll never mention this again."

Sirius looked at James, who was gaping at Gin like some kind of deformed fish. Remus stood back a little with his hands in his pockets, watching his foot slide back and forth across the carpet, but Sirius could tell he was listening intently. Peter kept looking from Sirius to James, twisting his fingers together nervously.

"You really think that McGonagall would believe you anyway?" Sirius asked her, playing it cool. "You have no proof. Snape already told her we were behind it, but she couldn't do anything to us but make threats."

Gin's expression hadn't changed.

"Fine. Excuse me then," she said, pushing past Peter and walking back toward the portrait hole. "I need to have a word with Professor McGonagall."

"All right, all right!" Sirius conceded. James groaned. "I'll show you the bloody kitchens."

Gin froze and turned back toward him, looking irritatingly unfazed. "Great. Tomorrow after lunch. Good night then."

And without another word or even another glance at Sirius, she disappeared up the girls' staircase, leaving the four gaping boys in her wake.

* * *

Lunch on Saturday was the usual affair, except for the fact that Sirius's eyes kept flashing down the table toward Gin more often than normal. When the boys had all cleaned their plates, Remus, Peter, and James stood up, claiming that they needed to visit the Owlery to send letters to their parents. In all the excitement of the first two months at Hogwarts, none of them had found much time to answer the owls they received every few days at breakfast. And as much as Sirius tried to squash the bubble of jealousy that grew inside him whenever one of his friends received a letter from home, he couldn't help but feel vaguely irritated that none of them could find the time to answer the letters that he would have given his left hand to be receiving.

Sirius looked up to find Gin standing right next to his spot on the bench. She looked different than usual, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

"Ready?" she asked.

He had to compose himself for a brief moment before swinging his feet over the bench and grinning at her. "For the dangerous journey to the Hogwarts kitchens? I think I can handle it."

She rolled her eyes but actually laughed as he stood up and they made their way to the entrance hall.

"Can't you ever just say yes or no?" she asked him.

"I'd like to think that I'm not that boring of a person."

"Or maybe you just like the sound of your own voice."

He grinned. They passed Lily and Adin, who were walking in the opposite direction. Lily smiled and waved at Gin while Adin just gave them an odd look. After turning the corner, Sirius looked over at Gin, who had simply smiled easily at the girls when they had passed.

"What? Don't like your roommates?"

Gin started, as if she had forgotten that he was walking beside her. "Oh. No, I like them fine. Why?"

"It wasn't a very warm greeting, is all."

She stopped walking, so he did too. "And when you pass Goomer in the corridor, do you jump and squeal and hug him?"

"No, but I'm a bloke."

"Ah." She frowned slightly. "Was I rude?"

She was very odd, he thought. "No," he said.

"Good." And she looked relieved.

"You're very odd," he told her.

This did not seem to bother her in the least. In fact, her expression didn't change at all. "Shall we keep walking then?"

"You're the one who stopped in the first place."

"Right," she said, looking around idly. "Because I don't know where we're going. You're supposed to be showing me, remember?"

"Oh yeah." He had forgotten. They started walking again, side by side, and he led her down a side staircase. "You do know the kitchens are out of bounds for students, don't you?"

"Are they?" she asked. "No, I don't think I knew that."

"Still up for it?"

"For the dangerous journey to the Hogwarts kitchens?" she echoed his own words, while something like amusement passed over her face. "I think I can handle it."

"I dunno," said Sirius with mock seriousness. "You don't strike me as a troublemaker, Ginuine Leigh."

"Perhaps you don't know me then, Sirius Black." There was nothing mocking or coy in her tone, it was stated with a casual simplicity, but Sirius decided then and there that he rather enjoyed teasing Ginuine Leigh. She was so wryly earnest.

And odd. Very odd.

They passed a group of third-year Slytherin boys, all glaring at Sirius, who pulled a face and made a rude gesture at them. After they had turned and emerged into a brightly lit corridor lined with pictures of various foods, Gin spoke up again.

"Why do the Slytherins hate you so much?"

"You mean besides the fact that I helped turn them all pink during my second week at Hogwarts and somehow managed to escape any punishment?"

She laughed. "Yeah…besides that."

He paused for a moment, debating how much to tell her.

"My whole family has always been in Slytherin for some mad number of generations. I guess they think I'm a traitor…or something," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but it was hard to do when she was looking at him like that.

He stopped walking when they reached the painting of the fruit bowl. Gin's eyes flickered up to it briefly, and then returned to his face, and he deeply hoped that she was not going to continue questioning him about his family.

"Well I think it's cool that you're a Gryffindor."

Sirius smiled, grateful that she had let it drop.

"Thanks," he said, before tickling the pear and pulling at the door handle that appeared. "After you."

* * *

After showing Gin the kitchens and helping her load her pockets with the house elves' delectable caramel toffee bars (which she was "madly in love with"), Sirius returned to the common room to find James, Peter, and Remus all back from the Owlery. He immediately knew they were plotting something, as they were sitting in a small group in the corner, heads bent together and talking in low voices. When he approached them, they all jumped noticeably and then looked relieved to discover that it was only Sirius.

"How was your date with Gin?" James sniggered.

"He was showing her the kitchens," Remus said, "not taking her on a date." He looked at Sirius quickly. "Were you?"

Sirius shrugged innocently, but the others' faces told him they knew he was only joking. "So what are we planning?"

"How'd you know?" asked Peter in awe.

"Call it a sixth sense. Now what's going on?"

"We want to go all the way through the secret passage to Hogsmeade," James said in a loud whisper. "Tonight."

Sirius felt his heart start beating faster the way it always did right before he did something against the rules. "Finally!" he said. He had been wanting to sneak into Hogsmeade for weeks now.

"I think we should leave while the rest of the school is at dinner," Remus said. Sirius turned to him, surprised. He liked Remus very much, but he usually found that they had to convince him to break the rules. Here he was offering suggestions to them about how to sneak out of the castle?

"That's not a bad idea," agreed Sirius. "If everyone's in the Great Hall, there'll be less of a chance that we get caught sneaking into the passageway."

"But what about dinner?" Peter asked, looking anxious as usual. Sirius tried not to snigger at how concerned he was with food.

"We'll get dinner in the village," James assured him.

"Then it's settled," Sirius said. "Now we just have to figure out what to do between now and dinnertime."

"I'm going to work on my Astronomy assignment," said Remus. Sirius, James, and Peter all groaned, but pulled out their Astronomy books and star charts as well.

* * *

Like every young British witch or wizard before her, and like every young British witch or wizard to come after her, Ginuine Leigh had fallen in love with Hogwarts the moment she had stepped through its heavy oak doors. She was not surprising or unique or anything but a cliché in that regard. She loved the vastness of the Great Hall, and the staircases that left you guessing, and the maze of corridors that a young witch could enjoy getting lost in. What was unusual, or at least what she considered unusual in observing her classmates, was the fact that she had already grown a bit weary of the Gryffindor common room. It's not that she disliked her housemates – she was very happy to be a Gryffindor – but the hustle and bustle and constant thrum of noise in the common room had already become mundane to her, after only a few months. She hoped it was a phase she would grow out of.

Sitting crosslegged on her bed in the girls' dormitory, Gin flipped through the pages of her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, wondering vaguely what change had occurred in her since the start of term that would cause her to be one for sitting in bed, reading schoolbooks instead of her standard storybooks. She had, in fact, not read anything for fun since the summer ended, and, for reasons she could not explain, it did not bother her too much. There was so much less of a reason now for her to need to escape into her books. If nothing else, there was more for her to do at Hogwarts, with more work to keep her occupied, and more to read on a nightly basis. She had never been a particularly studious child at home, and even at Hogwarts, her marks were not exactly top of the class. Nevertheless, she had been drawn to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and found it to be a fascinating subject, no matter how dull Professor "Cyclops" Eldon made it seem in class.

Her eyes migrated up from the pages of her textbook ("How to Tell if Your Friend is Under the Imperius Curse") to gaze out the window and across the grounds. It was a beautiful, if breezy, evening, and the surface of the lake was churning and lapping toward its shores, where a few groups of older students sat in the waning light. If she had more time before sunset, she would have been tempted to take a quiet walk around the grounds just to clear her head. Instead, she reached over to unlock the window closest to her, stretched her legs out across her bed and allowed the crisp November breeze to wash over her. This quiet freshness, for now, would do.

Of course, the quiet was short-lived. Her reverie was interrupted when the door to the dormitory opened and Raeanne and Mary walked in. Gin liked them both just fine, but the dormitory tended to be the only place where the pair of them could be found without Goomer by their sides. They had apparently just come in from outside and were chatting happily while depositing their cloaks and mittens onto their respective beds.

"Hi Gin," greeted Raeanne. "Have you been up here all this time?"

"Yes," said Gin, caught off-guard. "Why?"

Raeanne shrugged genially as she packed her mittens into her trunk. "Just wondering. What are you up to tonight?"

Gin held up the book that had been beside her for Raeanne to see. "Just reading, I guess." And then, in an effort to not sound rude, she added, "What about you?"

"Oh I don't know," said Raeanne. "We were supposed to have a Gobstones tournament with Goomer, but he's in detention with Sprout tonight. The idiot keeps forgetting to do his Herbology homework."

"We just walked with him down to the greenhouses," added Mary. "It's a beautiful evening."

The breeze from the open window caused a few sheets of parchment on Gin's cabinet to flutter dangerously, so she weighed them down with a water glass. She felt unsettled, but she didn't know why. It was, she agreed, truly a beautiful evening, perhaps one of the last they would have that year. And she had spent it reading about the Imperius Curse. Alone.

The door opened again and all three girls turned to see Lily and Adin tumble into the dormitory, Lily looking mortified and Adin in fits of laughter.

"You…should…have…seen…your…face!" Adin choked out, flopping down on her bed and holding her stomach.

"What's so funny?" asked Raeanne.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Oh nothing," she said, throwing a pillow at Adin, who had started, if possible, to laugh harder. "Adin just finds humor in my humiliation."

Adin sobered enough to talk normally again. "Oh Lily, if anyone was humiliated, it was Laslow, and rightly so."

"Speak for yourself," Lily mumbled. She flopped down face-first on her bed and hid her head underneath her old, stuffed unicorn.

"What happened?" asked Mary.

Adin's laughter reignited for a moment, but quieted again when Lily raised her head enough to give her a mutinous glare.

"Ahem," said Adin, controlling herself. "We were walking out of the Great Hall after supper, right? And out of nowhere, this Ravenclaw second year, Damon Laslow, comes up to us. He's…well, he's a bit _taken_ with Lily, if you know what I mean. He's been coming up to her in the corridors all week, asking if she needs help with her homework. As if _Lily_ of all people needs help with homework! I mean, if some Ravenclaw second year was offering to help _me_ with _my_ homework – even if it was a boy as odd as Damon Laslow…but I mean, he's a Ravenclaw, so he can't be too –"

"Adin," Raeanne cut in. "What happened in the Great Hall after supper?"

"Oh yeah!" Adin seemed to gather her wandering thoughts back to the topic at hand. "Well, Damon Laslow walks right up to us, in the middle of the Great Hall with everyone around, and without even lowering his voice or anything, he goes…" Adin burst into a new round of laughter before she could even get it out.

"What'd he say?" asked Raeanne and Mary simultaneously. Both girls seemed to be enthralled with the story. Gin, surprising herself, was actually interested as well. Lily groaned into her unicorn.

"He asked her to be his girlfriend," said Adin in between giggles.

All of the girls, with the exception of Lily, broke into giggles. Even Gin couldn't help laughing at the idea of such a thick boy.

"I didn't know what to do!" Lily's moan was only partially muffled by her prone position. "Everyone was looking at me."

"What'd you say to him?"

Lily didn't answer, but just groaned and covered her head in her hands.

"She said, 'No, thank you,' and then just walked out of the hall!" laughed Adin.

"Don't worry about it, Lily," Mary said.

"Yeah," Raeanne agreed, "I bet not very many people could hear, anyway."

Lily just mumbled something incoherent into her bed. Adin, however, turned and looked directly at Gin. "Hey Gin, do you know why Sirius and James and them weren't at dinner?"

Gin frowned slightly at the change of subject, thinking this was a strange question to be asked. "Erm, no, I didn't even notice that they weren't there."

Adin just shrugged. "I wonder where they were. What were you and Sirius doing today, anyway?"

It's not as if Gin _disliked_ Adin, per se, she just had very little patience for her. It was unusual for her – she was a patient person by nature.

"We were walking down the corridor," Gin said, her tone even.

The tension in the room seemed to elevate with the reply. Adin fidgeted slightly, but then said, "Someone told me that Sirius was showing you the kitchens."

Gin fought the urge to groan. First of all, how would that bit of information get around the school? Secondly, why in the world would anyone care enough to talk about it?

"Yeah," she said, acting as if this was quite inconsequential.

Raeanne and Mary both sat a bit straighter.

"Can you show us?"

"Show you what?" Gin asked, confused.

"Where the kitchens are!"

"We could go get some sweets!"

Adin was smiling at Gin, which was rare. "Come on, Gin," she urged. "It'll be fun!"

There was a moment where she felt surprised with herself for actually thinking that spending a bit of time with her roommates could be relatively enlightening, if not fun. She had never exactly had girl friends at home. And then the surprise was gone, and she felt something like…belonging.

Gin glanced at Lily, who was now sitting up on her bed and who alone had remained quiet throughout the exchange. Lily was looking back at her, awaiting her answer, but her stare betrayed no pressure or skepticism – only pure curiosity.

"All right," Gin conceded. "I'll show you."

The others cheered and laughed and the five Gryffindor girls made their ways down to the school kitchens, Ginuine Leigh in the lead.

* * *

Hogsmeade was, in a word, sensational. James's pockets were already stuffed with the purchases he had made at Zonko's and Honeydukes, and he gazed around Dervish and Banges, thinking that he could spend hours in this one little shop. Sirius and Remus had already wandered off to look more closely at Instant Wand Polishing Powder, while James examined a vibrating, multi-pronged, silver instrument with a purpose he could not deduce. Peter stood next to him, reading the brand new issue of _The Adventures of Dino Danger_ , which he had picked up at the bookshop next store. James had fought not to laugh at his friend's excitement over the comic – they were eleven, for Merlin's sake, and everyone knew that _Dino Danger_ was for children.

Getting into Hogsmeade had been incredibly easy. As planned, the four boys sneaked out of the castle through the passageway that was hidden behind the giant mirror; luckily, they hadn't met anyone in the fourth floor corridor (although Sirius was certain that plenty of people would miss their presence from the table at dinner). The passageway had been a bit longer than any of them had anticipated, and by the time they emerged from a fake sewer grate behind Zonko's, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the mountains.

James had also been pleasantly surprised to discover that very few people had given their presence in the village much thought. They had received a few strange looks from passersby, and the owner of Zonko's Joke Shop had tipped them a rather obvious wink, though James wasn't certain whether that was for sneaking out of school or for the vast amount of Dungbombs and Hiccup Sweets they had purchased.

"Where to now?" Remus asked as they left Dervish and Banges a while later. They all pulled their cloaks more tightly around them; the chilly November air had dropped quite a lot in temperature since the sun went down.

"Can we eat yet?" asked Peter. James met Sirius's eye and they grinned at each other.

"That place looks good," said James, pointing to a brightly lit, crowded restaurant. A wooden sign over the door indicated that it was called The Three Broomsticks. A curvy, pretty woman could be seen through the window delivering a tray full of drinks to a group of rowdy wizards.

Sirius seemed to have spotted her too.

"Yeah, that place looks really good," he said, walking toward the door.

Once inside, they found a small table in the corner and sat down. James looked around, nervously hoping that no Hogwarts professor would have the inclination to come to a place like this on a Saturday night.

"You finish your comic, Peter?" asked Sirius, a bit of laughter in his tone.

"Oh no, not yet! I've got to take my time with it. The next issue doesn't come out for months!"

"I'll tell you how this one ends," said James. "Old Dino gets into a duel with that dragon smuggler, the Silver Sorcerer, and at the very last second, the Silver Sorcerer gets away and lives to fight another day."

"Oh I hope not!" said Peter earnestly. "The Sorcerer's got Dino Danger cornered in a cave with a Peruvian Vipertooth, but I'm sure Dino will be able to get out of it soon."

"He's a shifty one, that Sorcerer," nodded Sirius in an overly serious tone. Peter did not seem to notice that they were mocking him. James bit back a laugh.

"Well you boys are a bit young to be out alone at this time of night, aren't you?"

To James's pleasure, the pretty waitress he had seen through the window was now standing at their table, smiling down at them. Up close she looked a lot younger; she couldn't have been much older than the seventh years. Remus and Peter both shifted anxiously at her question, but Sirius replied as only Sirius could do.

"Young at heart, but not of mind," he said, and once again, James tried not to laugh.

The waitress smiled knowingly at them.

"I'm guessing Professor Dumbledore doesn't know that you lot are in the village tonight," she said, but James didn't detect any hint of a threat in her voice. She appeared more amused than anything.

"I think Professor Dumbledore would be pleased to know that four of his cleverest students were putting their brains to use by figuring out ways to escape the banality of the castle," Sirius replied.

The waitress laughed. "You're good."

James decided to take a stab at it. "No, he's Sirius," he said, smiling at her. "And that's Remus, and that's Peter, and I'm James."

"Well I'm Rosmerta, and you four are lucky that I'm not one to go snitch on students that sneak out of the castle. Now what can I get you to drink?"

They all ordered butterbeers and watched Rosmerta long after she had left their table. When Sirius met James's eye, they both erupted into laughter; it wasn't long before Peter and even Remus had joined in. They only settled down when Rosmerta returned with their drinks and to take their orders, smiling warmly at their mischievousness and the sound of their youthful laughter.

* * *

Gin sat back on her bed, surrounded by sweet wrappers, butterbeer bottles, and an empty plate that had previously held quite a few of the caramel toffee bars she adored so much. Her roommates sat around her, their beds in similar states of disarray, giggling like mad. On the whole, giggling tended to annoy Gin, but tonight she couldn't help laughing along as Mary told them all of the time she had caught her older brother and his girlfriend in quite an uncomfortable position.

"They were _snogging_ in the _linen cupboard_?" Raeanne said, apparently horrified.

"Yes! Like – _snogging_ snogging. _Gross_ snogging! My brother didn't look me in the eye for the longest time," Mary said, blushing.

Lily laughed and took a bite from one of the many eclairs she had gotten from the house elves. "You'd think they would find a more comfortable place."

Gin grinned, surprising herself when she said wryly, "What do you know about _that_ , Lily?"

Lily choked on her eclair as the others burst out into a new round of laughter.

"Lily's kissed a boy before!" Adin blurted out.

"What?" Mary and Raeanne both shrieked. "Who? When?"

Lily glared accusingly at Adin. "Thanks a lot, Adin!"

But Adin just pulled an innocent face and grinned back at her. "What? I'd want everyone to know if I had kissed a boy before."

"So you really have then?" asked Gin.

Lily nodded, her cheeks glowing pink.

"How did it happen?" Raeanne asked eagerly.

"Well, his name was Michael, he was my friend from school – my Muggle school, that is." She bit her lip, looking hesitant, before finishing. "We always played football together after school and one day, he just leaned over, and I thought he was trying to steal the ball, but then he just kissed me."

"What'd you do?"

Lily turned an ever deeper shade of red and laughed nervously. "I kicked him."

"You kicked him?" repeated Gin, as the others all shrieked in laughter.

Lily shrugged. "What? I wasn't expecting it, and I didn't like him like that."

"Well who _do_ you like like that?" Adin asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No one," Lily said quickly. Gin didn't miss the way she looked down at her bed before answering.

"You spend a lot of time with Severus Snape, though. You're always running off to talk to him in the corridor."

Lily shrugged again. "He's a friend from home. And we're Potions partners, so we study together sometimes."

"He's kind of weird looking. Plus I think he fancies you," Adin said.

Lily narrowed her eyes at the other girl. "He doesn't fancy me, we're just good friends. And I don't call your friends weird looking, Adin, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't make fun of mine."

"Sorry," Adin said quickly, though Gin didn't think she seemed very sorry at all. Perhaps she wanted to defuse the situation, though, because she immediately turned to Raeanne. "What about Goomer, Raeanne? I'm sure you have plenty of dirt on him."

"Dirt?" Raeanne considered this for a moment. Then she laughed. "Sure, I guess I do, but he has just as much on me, so I think I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Oooh," said Adin, sitting a bit straighter. "What does he have on you, then? Come on, you've got to give us something."

"I don't have any juicy secrets, Adin, I promise. But all the secrets I have – as unjuicy as they are – Goomer knows."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like the fact that I was the one who crashed my brother Oliver's broom into the river last summer, but Oliver had thought that it was my brother Dennis, and the two got into a huge row about it at my cousin Felix's wedding that ended with Oliver's head buried in the wedding cake and the bride in tears."

There was a beat of silence where the other girls comprehended this story before dissolving once again into laughter.

"Well now we all know your guilt too, Raeanne, so you'd better hope we don't have any reason to blackmail you," laughed Lily.

"Your brothers aren't Gryffindors, are they, Raeanne?" asked Adin.

"No, Oliver's a Hufflepuff and Dennis is a Ravenclaw."

"Do they have girlfriends?" Adin's mind never seemed to be far away from the subject of boys.

"Er, I don't know. Oliver's never mentioned – he's a third year. Dennis had a girlfriend – Carol something – last year, but I only know because Oliver wouldn't stop taking the mickey out of him last Christmas."

"Well, I was talking to my friend in Ravenclaw, Emily Cagle," Adin started importantly, "and she was saying how all the other girls in our year are jealous of us because we get to be in the same house as Sirius and James."

At this, Gin glanced at Lily and wasn't surprised to find her now examining a spot on her curtains rather intently.

"Of course," Adin continued, "I knew James even before we came to Hogwarts, and Emily's fancied him for ages. Our parents are friendly with the Potters, so they'd always get invited to our New Year's ball, though James only ever wanted to talk to the Bones brothers. They're really rich supposedly – the Potters. James's dad invented Sleekeazy's, did you know?"

"The hair potion?" asked Raeanne with interest.

Adin nodded. She was clearly in her element. "And isn't it funny, then, that James's hair is always so untidy?"

"If he's so rich," said Lily, eyes fixed determinedly on the ceiling, "then you'd think he could buy a comb."

Adin either didn't hear her or pretended like she hadn't. She sighed wistfully. "They're so cute. Especially Sirius. Everyone thinks so…even the older girls."

"The four of them sure do spend a lot of time together," said Mary. "Sirius and James and Remus and Peter, I mean. People are saying that they were even the ones who have been doing all those pranks."

"That thing they did to Severus, though, that was really mean," Lily said, a slight strain to her voice.

"I mean, no one knows for certain that it was them, though," said Adin, and Gin looked pointedly away. "Besides, it was all in good fun. People mess with each other all the time here." Gin privately thought that James and Sirius could blow up the castle and Adin would say that it had been 'in good fun.'

"Plus," added Raeanne, "have they ever been mean to you, Lily?"

Lily pondered this for a moment, and then with a resigned sigh, she shook her head. "No, they've always been nice to me. Sometimes I just think they're too clever for their own good. I mean, they're top of every class."

"Except Potions," Gin said.

This made Lily grin. "Well…naturally."

"What about you, Gin?" said Adin.

Gin blinked at her. "What about me?"

"Any boyfriends back home?"

"Oh. No…I've never had a boyfriend before. For a time I had a few friends who were boys, though."

Adin sighed in an overly dramatic way. "You guys are so lucky. My dad doesn't let boys anywhere near me, even as friends. Once, a boy called Darius Montague from up the street came to see if I could go swimming, and my dad started telling him all about the time he blasted a vampire colony to smithereens with one curse. Darius hasn't been back since!"

"You live in a wizarding village, Adin?" asked Mary.

"Yeah, sort of. The village isn't all magical, but everyone on my street is."

"That's so strange," Mary said softly. "I can't imagine growing up like that."

"Hey!" said Lily, looking amusedly offended (and more like her normal self now that there had been a change of subject). "There's nothing wrong with growing up with Muggles. I like to think of it as the best of both worlds."

Mary smiled at her. "Thanks, Lily."

Lily turned to Gin, and Gin felt no annoyance like she did whenever Adin was going to question her. Lily just seemed to have that calming effect on people.

"What about you, Gin? Did you grow up with Muggles?"

She took a moment before answering, trying to decide how much to say. She had never had people ask her so many questions about herself before. "I grew up in a Muggle neighborhood," she said at last.

"But your parents weren't Muggles, were they?" Raeanne asked.

She shook her head. "No, my mum's a witch."

"But what about your dad?"

Gin shrugged, a familiar discomfort taking hold. This, she remembered, was one of the reasons she did not like to sit around in a group of girls and chitchat. But they were all looking at her now, and she felt like she had to answer.

"He was a Muggle, I guess," she said.

Adin looked at her oddly, and Gin knew what was coming.

"He 'was?' Why isn't –"

If Lily had asked her the question, perhaps she would have had a different response, but for some reason, Gin was suddenly in no mood to answer Adin. Before Adin could even finish her sentence, Gin hopped abruptly off her bed and walked toward the door to the dormitory.

"I'll be back," she interrupted, trying to ignore the funny looks the others were throwing her way. "I just remembered I left a book in the common room…don't want anyone to take it."

She left the room quickly, silently cursing herself. On the landing outside the door, the standard chatter and Saturday night music from the common room drifted up the staircase. Regret pooled in her stomach. She hesitated only for a moment before descending the staircase and finding a secluded table in the corner of the common room. Averting her eyes from the raucous goings-on of the upper-year Gryffindors, she curled her knees under her and gazed out of the dark windows, thinking that maybe at some point in her time at Hogwarts, she would learn how to be socially adept. Then she wondered if she actually wanted to be. At home, she had had a few Muggle friends in primary school, but the difficulty inherent in the separation of their worlds had been too great for her to grow close to anyone. She had her mother, of course. And she had her books. It had never seemed important to her before to ask for more.

Only a minute or two passed before Lily plopped down in the chair next to her. For a moment, she said nothing, but just gazed out the same window Gin had been admiring.

"Did you find your book?"

"Oh," said Gin, fidgeting. "Er, no, I must have left it somewhere else."

Lily nodded, a strange half-smile forming on her face. Still, she kept her green eyes on the dark window. "It'll turn up, I'm sure."

Gin echoed her nod and licked her lips nervously. Despite herself, she felt a strong urge to tell the other girl something – anything – of importance. "You can tell the others that nothing about my family is impressive or interesting," she muttered so quietly that she wondered if Lily could even hear her. "Not to disappoint Adin or anything. My dad left before I was born and my mum doesn't talk about him much."

It was strange that she did not feel annoyed by telling Lily this. Lily finally turned to look at her.

"My sister called me a freak right before I got on the Hogwarts Express and I don't know if she'll ever talk to me again," she said. Gin just stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Lily was still wearing that strange little half-smile, and Gin realized she didn't need to respond at all.

"All right," she said, nodding and knowing imperceptibly that Lily understood everything she didn't need to say.

And for the first time since she had left home, Gin felt like maybe, just maybe, someone actually cared about her.


	7. 1-7 or 'For Christmas'

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Now the return of some Lily/Sev dysfunction and Christmas in September. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 7 - 1.7 or "You'll Never Believe What My Dad Gave Me for Christmas"**

"So you're saying that if we add crushed scarab beetles instead of whole ones, the drinker won't suffer the side effects of giddiness?"

Lily nodded slightly, her finger running along the lines in her Potions book. She was sitting in a corner of the school library with Severus, working on an essay for Slughorn about the pitfalls of the Scintillation Solution.

"It should work," she said after a moment. "According to the book, they're used in the Wit-Sharpening Potion for a similar purpose, and the Wit-Sharpening Potion has the same base as the Scintillation Solution." She shrugged. "We can try it tomorrow in class and see if it works."

Severus nodded as he jotted hurried notes down on a piece of parchment.

"All right," he said, glancing briefly at Lily before turning back to his parchment, "as long as we don't forget to stir in the horned slugs before the daisy roots."

Lily flipped to the back of her book and tapped the end of her quill idly against her jaw, as another idea took hold.

"Maybe we could chop the daisy roots vertically as opposed to horizontally," she suggested. "I think they'd cook quicker."

He glanced at her again and went back to his notes. "Yeah," he said, "I hadn't thought about that. We should try it."

"This is fun," Lily said, grinning. "Who knew that Potions would be so entertaining?"

Severus nodded but didn't look up.

"It's a bit like cooking, I guess," she continued, stretching her arms above her head. They had been huddled in their corner for over an hour and her muscles were starting to tense. "Which is funny if you think about it, because I've always hated cooking. I'm total rubbish. I think I actually burnt water once, which I didn't even know you could do."

Severus let out a low chuckle and continued jotting down notes on his parchment. They had been in school for several months now, and the two of them had started meeting in the library a few times a week to work on Potions, which they both seemed to have a natural knack for. Despite her earlier claim that being sorted into two different houses wouldn't change their friendship, it was difficult to find other time to spend together.

So in the end, even though they didn't exactly need to, the pair had spent quite a lot of time together, huddled in the corner of the library, working on Potions tricks that went above and beyond the curriculum. It wasn't exactly the most conventional way to spend time – she understood that – but she continued to look forward to their meetings. Adin tended to roll her eyes whenever Lily would have to go off to meet Severus, but Lily stubbornly refused to let it affect her.

"Well lookie here, it's Sevvie and the Mudblood."

Both of them looked up, startled, at a group of three Slytherins that had appeared from behind one of the nearby shelves.

"Ouch, that hurts, Avery," snapped Lily. "How long did it take you to come up with that insult?"

Avery bristled. Behind him, Halden Wilkes just cracked his knuckles and Mulciber leered at her hungrily.

"Are you actually attempting to talk to us, Mudblood?" Avery asked.

"Attempting," said Lily, "but failing, because I don't speak tosspot, so you'll need to translate for me."

The Slytherins all stared at her, apparently at a loss for words. Finally, Avery turned to Severus, who was watching them warily.

"What are you doing with her, Snape?"

Severus gestured to the books in front of them. "We're working on Potions."

A trickle of disappointment pooled in Lily's stomach. Of course he wouldn't admit to being anything more than a study partner of hers. Despite what he had told her long ago in a wooded clearing near Spinner's End, she had quickly discovered that her Muggle parentage mattered to some people. Not to Severus, and not to any of the Gryffindors she had met, but it seemed to be a sticking point with many of the Slytherins. Their friendship could not be flaunted. She understood, and she went along with it, but she also felt dirtied by it. Mudblood, indeed.

"Well get away from this one as soon as you're finished," said Avery. "You wouldn't want any of her Mudblood germs to rub off on you."

"You'd better get away too, Avery," said Lily. "You wouldn't want any of my IQ points to rub off on you."

She thought she heard Severus stifle a laugh, but when she glanced at him, he was looking blankly at his fellow Slytherins.

"You'd better watch that sharp tongue, Evans," Mulciber growled, "or we might just have to remove it for you."

The boys turned and stalked away, but not before Lily had made a very overt display of rolling her eyes at them. She was not scared of the Slytherin boys. It's not like they would ever do anything to her with the teachers around other than make idle threats. She turned back to Severus, who was now picking at a candle burn on the table.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry," he repeated and she had to to strain to hear him. "I should have told them to bugger off. I shouldn't have let them talk to you like that."

Lily didn't know how to respond. The fact was, this was not the first time his fellow Slytherins (his… _friends?_ ) had been rude to her, and this was not the first time he had failed to do anything about it. This was, however, the first time he had apologized for his inaction.

"Well…" she started unevenly. And then she laughed at the absurdity of it all. Severus's head snapped up.

"What's so funny?"

"You don't have to protect me, Sev. I can handle Avery and his friends."

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing," she said, not knowing if she even believed the words coming out of her mouth. "They're in your house…I get it. You don't want to – to make enemies. I understand." And she did understand, to a degree. Severus was feeling the same way she had when he had gotten into fights with James and Sirius. The difference was, she had defended him.

He swallowed and nodded, looking relieved. "All right."

"But thanks." It was not genuine, she realized after she had said it. She wanted to see how he would respond. "I mean, thanks for not calling me a Mudblood or whatever even when the rest of them do. Not that I care," she added quickly.

Severus looked up and right into her eyes, and there was something there that she had never seen before. Pride – she recognized after a second. He was actually _proud_ of himself for not calling her a Mudblood.

"You're welcome," he said.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

* * *

As Christmas drew nearer and the castle transformed into a winter wonderland, James found himself rather conflicted. He was excited to get away from the school for a few weeks and to see his parents, but he was also dreading how they would receive him. With the exception of the one time he had received a Howler when he was seven, he had never actually been punished by his parents. He knew for a fact, however, that they would not be very impressed with all of the owls they had been sent by Professor McGonagall regarding James's numerous detentions.

On top of the anxiety he felt at seeing his parents again, James was deeply regretting having to leave his friends, even if only for a few weeks. Out of all of them, only Peter seemed excited for the holiday. Remus had regressed to the quiet nervousness that had plagued him at the start of term, and James spent many hours pondering what his friend had to be nervous about. Sirius, similarly, was clearly dreading the holiday, though he was a bit more obvious about it than Remus. He would be spending the break alone in the castle. As much as James loved Hogwarts, the idea of being the only student left in Gryffindor Tower at Christmas was a depressing thought indeed. Whenever anyone would mention the upcoming break, Sirius would make some wry joke before going quiet for an extended period of time. Sirius didn't ever offer much information to his friends about his family – except perhaps a few choice names he would call Narcissa when they passed her in the corridor – and James, Remus, and Peter had never exactly found the way to bring it up.

It was about a week before Christmas break when a fantastic idea had come to James in the middle of the night, as he had been lying awake making a mental list of all the Quidditch moves he would need to practice over the holiday. He sprung up from his bed and threw back the curtains; all four of his roommates appeared to be sound asleep.

" _Lumos_ ," he whispered after grabbing his wand from the bedside table. Using the small pool of light, he grabbed a quill and a sheet of parchment and began scribbling.

 _Dear Mum and Dad,_

 _Hope you're well. Lessons are good. I was wondering if it's okay that my friend Sirius comes home with me for Christmas. I told you about him in the letter I sent earlier in the term. He'd have to stay in the castle otherwise and I'd imagine that would be a lonely holiday. Plus, it'd just be a miserable Christmas for me if I knew he's here all alone, so if he can't come, I think I'd like to stay in the castle with him._

 _Write back soon,_

 _James_

He stowed the letter on the table with his quill, whispered a quick _"Nox!"_ and turned over to try and get some sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep didn't come to him that night as easily as it usually did. James woke up early the next morning, far earlier than usual, anyhow. A peak through his red curtains and out the window alerted him to the half-risen sun and the fact that he still had some time before the others would wake and they could go down to breakfast. He flopped around trying to get comfortable, but the idea of his parents letting Sirius come home with him excited him so much that sleep was futile.

After an hour or so, James finally gave up and rose to get ready for the day. He had a quick shower, threw on his robes, and wrote a short note to his friends to let them know that he would meet them at breakfast. By the time he had finished, the sun had risen a great deal higher in the sky and he knew that they would all be getting up soon.

Snatching the letter off of his bedside table, he left the dormitory and spiraled down the staircase into the common room, which he was surprised to find occupied by Lily Evans, curled in a chair by the fire, reading – of all things – a Potions book.

"Hi Lily." She jumped, her vivid green eyes searching the room for the source of the voice. She finally found him at the foot of the staircase and smiled hesitantly.

"Hullo," she said. He fidgeted when he noticed the way she went slightly pink around her cheeks.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, looking around at the empty common room.

She shrugged and held up her book for him to see. "Just reading a bit before class."

James grimaced as he made his way toward the portrait hole. "Potions at any time gives me a headache," he said. "The thought of Potions before breakfast makes me lose my appetite."

Lily grinned and shrugged again. "I couldn't sleep. Where are you off to this early?"

"The Owlery." He indicated the letter in his hands. "I'll see you later."

He jumped out of the portrait hole and made his way up to the Owlery, still slightly queasy at the idea of sitting around this early in the morning reading a Potions book. He didn't know Lily Evans that well, but he hadn't pegged her as a bookworm, even if she did seem to enjoy flying circles around all of them in Slughorn's lessons.

His visit to the Owlery was uneventful, with the minor exception of sliding on some owl droppings and practically falling down the stairs, but James wasn't in any hurry to mention that to anyone. By the time Ari had flown off into the dull, cloudy morning with the letter secured to his leg, James was starting to wish he had gotten a bit more sleep the night before. His eyelids were beginning to feel uncharacteristically heavy.

It wasn't until he was making his way through the third floor corridor to breakfast that a very large, bony lump tackled him from behind.

"There you are! What were you thinking about, running off all on your own this morning?"

James straightened his glasses and smoothed his rumpled clothes a bit before glaring at Sirius, who had an arm thrown over his shoulders. Remus and Peter stood a bit behind them, the former looking amusedly irritated by Sirius and the latter laughing nervously.

"Geroff, you git," James said, pushing Sirius away from him. "I left you a note. I had to run to the Owlery."

"Sirius had separation anxiety," Remus said dryly.

"I did not!"

"When he woke up and saw that you had already left, he burst into tears and started whimpering something about you getting eaten by a Lethifold."

James and Peter burst into laughter while Sirius shot Remus an unappreciative hand gesture.

"Hey, don't dish it if you can't take it," James told him.

Sirius threw back a tapestry revealing a hidden staircase that they had found during one of their nighttime wanderings. He grinned at Remus as they descended it into a narrow corridor that led to the entrance hall.

"Never knew you had it in you, Remus," he said proudly.

Remus grinned sheepishly. "What can I say? You lot bring out the sarcasm in me."

The boys' laughter caught in their throats as they turned the corner to find a small group of students in the doorway leading to the entrance hall. As they made their way closer, they recognized the group as consisting of first-year Slytherins who seemed to be laughing and pointing at something they were surrounding. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all moved forward, trying their best to remain inconspicuous for as long as possible. But when James saw what the source of the Slytherins' glee was, all rational thought flew out the window. Fury that James didn't know he even possessed reared up within him at the sight.

Lily Evans was lying on the stone floor, stiff as a board, her arms and legs clamped tightly together and her eyes staring furiously up at her attackers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The Slytherins barely had the chance to turn and look at him before Sirius collided with Marshall Avery in a blur of flying fists and muffled obscenities.

"Let…go…stupid…Slytherin…bastard…"

James's wand was out, but he didn't know who to jinx first. His hesitation cost him. The next moment, Halden Wilkes had placed a well-aimed hex at Sirius, who had flown off of Avery and into the doorframe. James shot a jelly-legs jinx at Wilkes, which hit its mark but drew the attention of the other Slytherins from Sirius and onto James. Dodging a few hexes, James was relieved to see Remus and Peter hurrying over to make sure Lily was okay. He threw a jinx at Mulciber that missed and hit the doorway, where a twitchy, pale boy stood in the shadows, watching the entire ordeal. James recognized Snape at once, but before he could even register the information, he was hit by a jinx from behind and started tap dancing uncontrollably.

Trying to control his jerking legs was useless, although James realized a moment later that he needn't have worried. It took a few flashes of her fiery red hair for him to comprehend that Lily was up and shooting spells at the Slytherins with the force of the rest of them combined. Sirius had got back to his feet, but was standing near the wall, watching Lily's spellwork with his mouth hanging open. She had hit every one of the Slytherins with some sort of jinx that caused them to sprout tentacles across their faces, except for Snape, who had disappeared right after Lily had been released. With a flick of her wand and a murmured incantation, James stopped dancing. Wilkes, Avery, and Mulciber now stood clustered near the wall, all grimacing at the painful tentacles and eyeing Lily's wand warily.

Lily looked like she might breathe fire, and James made a note to himself to never get on her bad side.

"Don't you ever touch me again, you arrogant snotrag," she spat at Wilkes, who seemed to be trying to look unconcerned, but whose eyes kept darting to the wand pointed at his chest. She then turned and stared down all three of the Slytherins. "If you so much as ever speak to me again, I'll hex you into seventh year."

Avery snorted. "Do you really think any of us are scared of a Mudblood like you?"

Lily stared at him, a look of pure disgust on her face. "How many of your little friends did you need to take down this Mudblood, Avery?" Avery just blinked at her through his tentacle-covered face. "That's what I thought. I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

The sound of teachers' voices from the entrance hall filtered into the corridor and all of the students turned to look at the doorway. The Slytherins, in particular, looked quite uncomfortable in their current state.

"This isn't over," sneered Avery, making sure to glare at each of the five Gryffindors.

"Come on," Mulciber urged, and the three of them walked in the opposite direction from the entrance hall, most likely headed to the hospital wing for tentacle removal.

The Gryffindors stood in the corridor for a moment in silence, the boys looking awkwardly at Lily, who had suddenly gone quite red.

"Thanks," she said, staring at the ground.

"What happened?" Remus asked gently.

"The usual," she said, rolling her eyes. "I came down to breakfast early and ran into them in the corridor and they started being their usual charming selves, so I told them to go flush their heads in a toilet and then Wilkes hit me with a Petrificus Totalus and I guess that's when you all walked in."

Sirius let out a guttural growl. "I'll kill them with my bare hands."

"They're not worth it. Seriously," she added, grinning at him. "I'm going to get some breakfast for real now. Hopefully I can make it to the Great Hall this time."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Remus asked.

"I'm fine, honestly. It was just a Petrificus Totalus was all."

"Come on," James said. "We'll walk with you to the Great Hall."

Lily blushed again. "I really don't need a guard of honor," she muttered, but the boys took it upon themselves to surround her completely as they made their way through the entrance hall and into the Great Hall.

"I think you should tell McGonagall," said Remus, with a pointed glance at the staff table, but Lily shook her head.

"Really, it's not a big deal. Did you see their faces? They won't be coming near me for a while, I can tell you that."

"Where'd you learn how to hex like that, anyway?" James asked, remembering the impressive display of jinxes Lily had shot off.

"Oh." She suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable. "Just from, er, a friend. Just for fun, you know?"

"Well you were brilliant at them," said James.

"Thanks," Lily said softly, blushing a brilliant shade of crimson. "Oh, look, there's Adin," she said, scurrying away toward where her friend sat.

"Where have you _been_?" asked Adin, as Lily sat down next to her and helped herself to some eggs.

"Just ran into some pests in the corridor, sorry I'm late."

Adin looked down the table at the four boys, obviously confused as to why Lily was calling them pests.

"You're not late, I was just wondering where you were is all."

But Lily, already having faced her share of humiliation that morning, wanted to get off the subject as soon as possible.

"Can you pass me some toast, Adin?"

Lily ate in silence for several minutes, her thoughts on the events of the morning and on Severus. She was shaken, but more by his actions (or inaction) than by the attack itself. He was supposed to be her best friend and, perhaps more importantly, she was supposed to be _his_. It wasn't until the post was being delivered by hundreds of swooping owls that Lily noticed the other Slytherin boys skulk into the hall, all now tentacle-free, and all throwing contemptuous glares toward where James and Sirius sat near the end of the Gryffindor table. Lily watched as Avery and Mulciber took seats on either side of Severus, watched as Wilkes leaned across the table to say something to him, watched as Severus's face betrayed nothing but stony impassivity, and she suddenly felt the urge to fling something across the room at his head.

"Oh blimey," Adin said, her eyes on the piece of parchment that had just been delivered by her owl. "'Today you shall read a book that may be a bit unsettling, but if you read between the lines, you'll be able to glean a lesson from the book that will have a profound effect on your personal outlook.' Eurgh, we have History of Magic first thing, surely I'm not supposed to read between the lines of _that_ text, am I?"

Adin had a subscription to _Your Daily Diviner_ , a newsletter that delivered prophetic advice to her every morning. Lily had grown used to the seriousness with which Adin took her morning forecasts.

"Let me read yours," Adin continued, when Lily didn't answer her. She turned the parchment over and ran her finger down it, searching. "Let's see…here we are…Aquarius. 'A key friendship will require your patience, if not your sympathy. Remember the friends who are worth fighting for.'" She paused, and then grinned up at Lily. "Well you'll certainly need to sympathize with me if I have to actually read our History of Magic book."

Lily forced a laugh and tore her gaze from the sight at the Slytherin table. "Yeah…and I'll need patience, too. The History of Magic book is about two thousand pages long."

"Yes," nodded Adin. "Please remember our friendship is worth fighting for when I'm eaten alive by the History of Magic book."

The laugh was less forced this time, but as Adin began reading the forecasts for Raeanne and Mary, Lily's attention wandered back to Severus. She needed to talk to him without James, or Sirius, or Adin, or any other Slytherins around. It seemed to take forever, but it was fifteen minutes later that she watched him grab his bag and make for the entrance hall, thankfully alone. Seizing her opportunity, and still not sure what to say to him, Lily hopped up from the bench. Adin stared at her questioningly.

"I forgot my book in the common room," she lied quickly. "Meet you in class."

And without waiting for a response, she took off out of the Great Hall and after Severus. It wasn't until she reached the Transfiguration corridor that she caught up with him.

"Sev! Hey, Severus!"

He turned and stared at her questioningly as she ran up to him. Up close, he looked paler than usual, and much more nervous. His eyes darted around the hallway, but it was empty apart from a group of Hufflepuffs making their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Listen…" she began, but he cut her off.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, his eyes still glancing through the corridor.

"Yes, of course. I'm – I'm fine." He shifted awkwardly but didn't say anything. She took a deep breath. "Look…I saw you. In the corridor before breakfast. I'm not an idiot, I know that you're the one that lifted the hex off of me. If you hadn't been there to help me –"

But he cut her off again.

"Then you would have been fine with Potter and his friends."

Of all the ways she had thought the conversation might have turned, this was not one of them.

"What are you talking about?"

"You should be _thanking them_ ," he said viciously. "They're the ones that got there first and helped you."

"Yeah, they did," Lily snapped, losing her patience. "They got there and they didn't do much other than get themselves hexed, but at least they aren't too scared of what people will think of them to try to help –"

"– but I _did_ help –"

"And we just covered that!" Her voice, previously a loud whisper, was now bordering on just plain old _loud._ Severus's eyes once again darted around the corridor, and he pulled her to the side as a group of older Ravenclaws pushed past.

"Why are you angry?"

"Why am I _angry_? For someone so clever, you can be really daft sometimes, Sev. I was attacked on my way to breakfast by your mates –"

"They aren't my –"

"– and I'm glad you showed up to remove the hex, but then you just disappeared! You just left me there without a word, because you're scared they'll know we're friends, and heaven forbid they know you're friendly with someone like _me_ , because then maybe they wouldn't like _you_ , right Sev? It's only been a few months and they mean more to you than I do, and you just won't admit it."

"That's not true," he said quietly. "That's not true, Lily."

"Then why did you lurk in the shadows where they couldn't see you helping me?" He did not answer. Lily breathed deeply, trying to steady her thumping heart and burning eyes. "Why are you so embarrassed by me?"

"I – _embarrassed?_ I'm not embarrassed by you, I swear. I – I…" He looked at her desperately, his expression pleading. "I'll make sure they leave you alone from now on, Lily, I swear. If…if…" He trailed off and then seemed to gather himself. "They won't hex you again, I'll make sure of it."

The corridor was filling up as more and more students hurried to their lessons, and Lily knew she had to leave soon if she didn't want to be late for History of Magic. She felt hollowed out by her disappointment in him.

"It's fine," she said at last. "It's fine. I…I'll see you in Potions this afternoon."

"Lily…"

"I have to get to class." Her voice, so passionate before, was soft and defeated. "Bye, Sev."

And with that, she turned and hurried down the corridor, not looking back once when the anguished voice of her best friend called her name.

* * *

The week before the Christmas holidays found James nervously awaiting the return of Ari. Every morning at breakfast, he would stare up into the swirling sky of the Great Hall, desperately searching for a glimpse of Ari's dark brown feathers, but to no avail. Sirius was becoming more and more irritable as Christmas drew nearer, snapping one word answers at anyone with the gall to try and have a conversation with him, resulting in an uncomfortable few moments in Charms a few days before break, when Lily Evans told Sirius that if he didn't stop snapping at her, she would use a spell to glue his lips together for a day. Sirius sulked for the rest of the afternoon and James didn't blame him; after watching Lily take on the Slytherins, he had no intention of ever getting on her bad side.

The night before the end of term, James had just about given up hope. The threat he had put in his letter – to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday with Sirius – weighed guiltily on his mind. He had been so looking forward to being home for a few weeks and flying on his own broom again instead of the useless school brooms, and, selfishly, he would much rather have Sirius come visit his house than for them both to stay at the castle for the next two weeks. Sirius's gloominess was wearing off onto him, and he even noticed that Remus and Peter seemed to have abandoned hope in trying to cheer up their brooding friend. James stumbled up to the boys' dormitory earlier than usual, deciding as he went that he would drag Sirius on the train with him the next day, even if he still hadn't heard from his parents. It's not like they would be able to turn Sirius away when they met him at the train station. James knew his parents better than that.

His decision turned out to be unnecessary, though, for he found Ari perched expectantly on his bed with a half-frozen piece of parchment tied to his leg.

"Finally!" James said, tearing the seal apart and scanning his eyes frantically over his mother's dignified handwriting.

 _Dear James,_

 _We are very sorry for the short notice, but Aristotle needed a few days to recover from the snow before he could take our reply. Please be careful about deciding when to send him out. You know that he doesn't do very well flying in the snow._

 _About your friend Sirius, after long consideration, your father and I both agree that he may come for the holidays, because the last thing we would want is for you to stay at Hogwarts at Christmastime with only one other boy to keep you company. Christmas is a time for family, and we want you home. And as the Boneses are traveling this holiday and won't be joining us on Boxing Day as usual, it may be nice for you to have a friend around. We will pick you both up from the Hogwarts Express on Saturday._

 _Stay out of trouble until then,_

 _Mum_

James's first instinct was to reach over and stroke Ari's cold feathers regretfully. His parents had often reminded him that Ari wasn't meant for the snow, but it tended to slip his mind.

"Sorry, buddy," he murmured and Ari hooted gratefully, taking flight out of the open window, no doubt to go find refuge in the Owlery. James, however, didn't even see him fly away, as he had already bounded out of the dormitory and back down the spiral stairs to find Sirius.

Remus and Peter were right where James had left them – playing a very one-sided game of wizard's chess. In the few minutes that James had been absent, Remus had apparently captured Peter's last bishop, so that all Peter had left defending his king were a pawn and a knight. He stared at the board with a miserable expression on his face.

"Where'd Sirius go?" James asked, trying to contain his excitement.

Peter looked up from the board and pointed to a squishy armchair next to the fire, where Sirius was slumped, staring into the flames. James made a beeline over to him.

"Great news," he said without preamble. "You're coming to my house for Christmas."

Sirius's eyes snapped up.

"What?"

"I sent an owl to my parents a week ago and they just sent one back saying you can come stay with us over the holiday!"

Sirius didn't say anything for several moments, and the strange expression that overtook his face made James's happiness deflate a bit. His friend looked as if he was going through about fifteen different emotions at once.

"I mean…if you want to…" James offered lamely.

Sirius looked up at him with that same strange expression before smiling brighter than James had seen him smile in a fortnight.

"It'd be great," he said. And then a moment later, he sat up straight and his smile changed from happiness to pure, unadulterated excitement. "Are we…oh blimey…are we going to get to ride in your parents' motorcar?"

James just grinned back.

* * *

The next day took some finagling. James and Sirius skulked in a shadowy corridor just off the entrance hall while Remus and Peter kept watch of the queued students as they climbed into the horseless carriages that would shepherd them to Hogsmeade. It was important, Sirius insisted, that they catch a carriage after Narcissa, so that he could avoid being seen by his cousin and thus avoid having his parents discover that he was going home with James. Once on the train, he could easily hide in a compartment all the way to London, and no one in his family would ever be the wiser.

There was just one problem.

"Sirius?"

He and James both started and jumped back from where they had been peering surreptitiously around the corner. Andromeda Black was standing behind them, wearing a traveling cloak and looking bemused.

"Andromeda!" His voice squeaked. "Hi!"

"What are you doing back here?" asked his cousin. Sirius glanced instinctively toward his bag, which lay conspicuously at his feet, and Andromeda's eyes were drawn to it as well. She frowned. "I thought you were staying in the castle for Christmas?"

"Er…well, I…"

"Sirius," she said, her voice sharp, "are you going back to London?"

Sirius glanced nervously at James, who took the hint.

"I'll just go check on the carriage queue," James said, backing around the corner and out of sight. Sirius sighed and turned back to his cousin.

"I'm not going back to London," he admitted, resigned to the fact that this plan would be in shambles if Andromeda was in a snitching kind of mood. Then his eyes fell on her bag and traveling cloak, and the way she was shifting nervously. "Wait a minute – I thought _you_ were staying in the castle for Christmas as well?"

They both stood there for a second, eyes narrowed suspiciously at one another. Something wasn't adding up. He and Andromeda were not close confidants, by any means, but it seemed to him that she should have told him if she had decided not to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, at least. Then he realized the hypocrisy of that sentiment.

"You – you're not going to Grimmauld Place, are you?" she asked, but it came off as more of a statement than a question. His silence seemed to be all the affirmation she needed, though, and she nodded solemnly. "It's for the best," she said. "Your parents…well, it sounds as if they still need some time to cool down. If you went home, they'd…"

She didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need her to.

"Don't tell," he said, surprised by how pleadingly it had come out of his mouth. "Please. I'm going to James Potter's for the holiday. He invited me, and I thought it wouldn't be as lonely as staying in the castle, and I couldn't go home, you know I couldn't."

"I won't," she said.

"So you _are_ going home then?" Sirius asked, relieved.

She shifted again. "I…well, no, I'm not. But the family thinks I'm staying here too, so if you don't mention anything, neither will I."

"All right," he shrugged. "But where are you going?"

"To…to a friend's house, like you. I just didn't want all the questions and, you know…the inquisition…"

He did know. He nodded. "Are you catching the train, then?"

"Oh no. I'll be apparating from Hogsmeade with my friend."

At this point, James's head popped back around the corner and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "All…er…clear," he said, with an awkward glance toward Andromeda. "Are you still coming, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded and shouldered his bag, smiling gratefully up at his cousin.

"Narcissa always sits at the front of the train, so steer toward the back and you should be fine," said Andromeda, returning his smile. "Just don't cause any trouble and bring attention to yourself."

Excitement was now building within him once more as he beamed at her and made to leave. "Happy Christmas, Andromeda."

"Happy Christmas, Sirius."

* * *

Two girls, perhaps only a year or two older than him, walked arm and arm down the street, giggling at nothing at all. They were both rosy cheeked from the cold and wrapped in heavy coats, hats, and scarves. Sirius watched them as the car drove up the snowy street toward what he could only assume was the Potters' house. A happiness and warmth that he had rarely known was trying to burst out of him, and when the two girls both stared right back at him through the car window, he smiled quite unabashedly.

"And what about Potions, darling, you haven't told us about Potions yet!"

James rolled his eyes at Sirius. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had been asking him questions about his life at Hogwarts ever since the boys had disembarked from the Hogwarts Express (only after ensuring that Narcissa and her parents had disappeared off of the platform), and Sirius could tell that James was getting quite bored with the interrogation.

"It's fine, Mum," he said. "Professor Slughorn's fine and the class is fine." He reached over and swatted at Sirius's hand when the latter started cranking the window down for the twentieth time. "Will you give it a rest, you prat, it's about two degrees out."

Sirius grinned and shrugged and went back to happily clicking and unclicking his seat belt. It was his first ever ride in a car, and to say he had enjoyed it would be an understatement.

James's parents weren't appeased by their son's vague answers about life at Hogwarts.

"How have your marks been in Potions? We got you that nice new cauldron with the extra thick bottom, so you shouldn't be having any problems with it…"

"Yeah, the cauldron's great, Dad," said James in the same bored voice. Sirius had to hide a snigger, and James rewarded him with a cuff to the shoulder.

The car stopped in front of a house that was separated a bit from the rest of the houses on the street. Sirius felt his jaw drop at the sight of James's house. It wasn't that it was the biggest house he had ever seen, but, even in the snow, the gardens seemed warm and inviting and the lights glittered welcomingly in the windows.

"We're here!" James shouted, and before his parents could ask him any more questions, he sprang out of the car and ran toward the front door. Sirius followed, only somewhat regretful to have to exit the car, but found himself too enthralled by the massive brick house to run with James.

"What do you think, Sirius?" Mr. Potter asked as he, too, emerged from the car. Sirius noticed how his voice had gone back to the formal tone that he had abandoned when speaking to his son, but supposed that must be normal.

"It's great," said Sirius honestly. He didn't think he had ever been so nervous to impress a grown-up before. "Thank you again for having me stay."

"Well James would never have forgiven us if we had let you sit alone in the castle for Christmas!" Mrs. Potter said as they walked up the shoveled walkway to the front door that James had left hanging wide open.

If the outside had impressed Sirius, it was nothing compared to the way he felt when he walked in the front door and into a massive, warm foyer brightly lit with glittering fairy lights. On his right, the hall opened into a sprawling sitting room with pristine, vaulted ceilings, and in front of him sat an ornate marble staircase with bannisters wrapped in holly. He barely had time to gape at his surroundings when he felt a tugging at the bottom of his cloak.

"Can Ant take sir's cloak for him?" asked a squeaky little voice from somewhere around Sirius's waist. Sirius looked down at the tiny little elf in surprise. Sure, he had seen plenty of house elves before – his own house was inhabited by a bitter old elf named Kreacher – but Kreacher wasn't nearly as small as Ant, nor did he ever speak in such a cheerful little voice.

"Erm, yes," said Sirius, caught off-guard. "Thanks very much."

James, who had apparently already had time to not only shed his cloak but to acquire a handful of sugar biscuits from somewhere, stood at the bottom of the immense staircase, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet.

"That's Ant, Sirius," he introduced unnecessarily. "And that's Ant's mum Flora."

Sirius turned to find a slightly sturdier-looking house elf bowing low to him. She was holding a large plate of sugar biscuits, which at least explained where James had found them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," said Flora. "We is always happy to meet Master James's friends. Would you care for a biscuit, sir?"

Sirius accepted the offer and smiled at the elf. "Thanks!"

"All right, come on, come on," James whined. "Let me go show you my room, Sirius! And then maybe we can go for a fly. It's stopped snowing, at least."

But James and Sirius had only bounded their way up half of the staircase when Mrs. Potter's voice rang out.

"Don't run in the house, James, and let us know before you go outside so that Flora can go with you, and make sure to put on a hat so that your ears don't get cold…"

"Okay, Mum, okay!"

But they had only taken a few more steps when Mrs. Potter's voice stopped them once again.

"And don't think we're not going to sit down and talk about all of the owls we've received from Professor McGonagall…"

Sirius glanced back down the stairs to where James's parents were standing, and his stomach lurched guiltily when he realized that Mr. Potter was staring at him with a rather wary look on his face, almost as if trying to read him like a book. Sirius gulped and continued to follow James up the stairs, trying to push away the sudden notion that he was at all unwelcome in the Potter household.

* * *

The week before Christmas passed in a blur for Sirius, who had never experienced a family like the Potters before. Mr. and Mrs. Potter doted on their only son to the extent where Sirius had on more than one occasion excused himself from the room so as to not bust open with laughter at the embarrassed looks on James's face. On the third day at the Potters', Mrs. Potter had asked James whether or not he had continued having any of his recurring Horklump nightmares, and reassured him that if he did, he was more than welcome to come sleep in his parents' bed again.

James didn't look Sirius in the eye for the rest of the night.

Sirius liked the Potter house immensely. He and James passed uncountable hours on the makeshift Quidditch pitch, which was nestled into the grove behind the back garden. James's parents insisted they be supervised at all times by either Flora or Ant, who didn't allow them to fly above the tree line. Sirius had to admit that he wasn't the natural flyer that James was, but he loved the way it felt when he and James would have contests on who could perform the best dive and his heart would jump into his throat as he rocketed toward the ground.

When they weren't flying, the boys would spend their time hidden in James's room practicing dueling, or else walking around the village that was situated at the top of the hill, laughing at the flustered Christmas shoppers and making guesses as to what the purpose of each Muggle contraption was. James won two Sickles off of Sirius one day by correctly identifying the purpose of a fire hydrant. Sirius hadn't gotten around to paying him, though, convinced that James was on the receiving end of insider information.

And through all of the fun that Sirius was having with James, he couldn't help but notice the forced smiles that Mr. and Mrs. Potter gave him or the way that the questions they asked him seemed more like interrogations than pleasant conversation. He had thought for a while that any chill that emanated from them was based on his part in all of James's troublemaking, but he neglected that reasoning when James reported back one day that his "lecture" with his parents had consisted of his father telling him to at least _try_ to behave.

But Sirius was used to adults looking at him with suspicion in their eyes, and although the Potters' reactions to him caused him pangs of guilt and confusion, he still had a great time exploring and laughing with James.

Christmas Eve saw a heavy snowfall that caused Mrs. Potter to insist that the boys stay inside the house all day, so in their boredom, they went up to the attic to try and find some more useful gems like the precious hints about the secret passageways that James had discovered before school had started. Unfortunately they weren't as lucky this time, and by the time they emerged from the drafty attic, they were covered in dust and empty handed. They had spent over an hour sifting through more old letters from James's parents, but with the exception of a few mushy, groan inducing sentiments, had found nothing of note in any of them. Other than that, all they had found were some old newspapers the Potters had saved, some chests of ancient family heirlooms, and a few withered photo albums. They whiled away most of the afternoon playing wizard's chess and discovering their mutual competitive natures; the "best two out of three" rule quickly turned into "three out of five" and then "five out of seven" and so forth until finally they were forced to abandon their tournament to wash up for dinner.

The Christmas Eve feast was the best that Sirius had tasted yet at the Potters'. Flora and Ant had worked all day to prepare the annual Christmas spread and it had paid off. By the time the pudding bowls were cleared away, Sirius was so full he could barely move, and he spent a good hour or so lying peacefully on his bed in the guest room he was staying in. Despite the comfort of his bed, it was still early, and it was Christmas Eve, so he figured he should probably be sociable. With a groan, he rolled off of the bed and made his way out of the bedroom and onto the landing. He could hear the Potter family chatting in the sitting room as he descended the sweeping staircase, but as soon as he reached the bottom step, he heard his name thrown out by Mr. Potter and paused.

"…when Sirius isn't around."

Sirius hesitated. Mr. Potter's voice sounded serious, and he guessed that this family conversation wasn't one meant to be overheard. On the other hand, he was quite curious to find out what they had to talk about when he wasn't around. He stepped back so that he was completely hidden on the stairs and listened to James question his father.

"Why can't Sirius be here?"

"It's not that he _can't_ , per se," said Mr. Potter, "it's just that I think this is better if it stays in the family."

Sirius took a chance and peered around the corner into the sitting room. James was looking at his father with a rather put-out expression on his face. His mother immediately reached over to stroke his head, but James pushed her arm away.

"James dear, just wait and see what your father has for you."

"You have something for me?

"Yes, and I promise it will be worth it."

James looked more appeased. He looked up at his father with curious eyes.

"What is it?"

From somewhere out of Sirius's limited view, Mr. Potter picked up a small, wrapped package and handed it to James.

"Wait," he ordered, as James made to tear into the package. "Before you open it, let me tell you about it. This was passed down to me from my father, who got it from his father. It's been in our family for many, many generations."

"This was Grandpa's?"

"Yes, it was, long ago. Not only is it valuable, James, it's useful. And your mother and I think that you're old enough now to use it to your advantage, and to not use it for trouble."

"Can I open it now?"

Mr. Potter had barely inclined his head into a nod when James ripped into the packaging with fervor. Sirius craned his neck a bit to see what fell out of the wrapping, but his view was blocked by Mrs. Potter. He heard James's gasp.

"Is this – is this what I think it is?"

"It's an Invisibility Cloak."

Sirius felt his jaw drop.

"For me? Really?" Excitement had made James's voice much higher than usual.

"If you're careful with it," said Mrs. Potter.

"I'll be careful with it, I promise!"

"And always remember that not only is it great fun, but that it can also be used for protection, if the situation ever arose and you needed it."

Mrs. Potter shifted toward her husband. "Not now, Fleamont…"

"Why would I need it for protection?" asked James.

"You wouldn't, darling. Your father is just being silly."

Mr. Potter looked exasperatedly at his wife, but seemed to deflate a bit.

"Don't worry about it, James. I was saying just in case is all."

James, though, did not seem to be listening too closely, as his head now appeared to be floating in midair and his eyes were searching wonderingly down at the air beneath him.

"This is so cool! I've got to go show Sirius!"

Sirius backed up flat against the wall and out of view, but thankfully, Mr. Potter must have stopped James from bounding out of the room.

"I want you to wait and think a bit, James, before telling anyone about this."

"What? Why? Sirius will think it's brilliant!"

"We know he'd like it, James," said Mrs. Potter. "But that's not the point."

Sirius swallowed hard and considered running back up the stairs and into his bedroom, but his feet felt like they were suddenly filled with cement and Mr. Potter was talking again.

"We know you've become close with Sirius during the term, and we're happy that you've made friends, but –"

"But what? What's wrong?"

James pulled off the cloak, frowning up at his father. His mother went to stroke his hair again, but he danced out of her reach.

"We just wonder whether Sirius is a good friend for you. His family is notorious for dark wizards, James, and it's bound to have rubbed off on him. I don't know how close you should get to Sirius Black."

There was a deafening silence in the sitting room. Sirius felt as though his heart were somewhere around his navel. Finally, James spoke.

"Sirius is my best friend, Dad. He's not a 'dark wizard!'"

"Yes, but all the same –"

"He's not like his family! He's in Gryffindor even though his mum told him he had to switch to Slytherin. His cousins and everyone, they hate him for it! Why do you think he couldn't go home for Christmas? He's not like them. He's not!"

Sirius had heard enough. As quietly as he could, he rushed back up the stairs into the guest room, closing the door tightly behind him and suddenly feeling completely empty, despite the massive amounts of food he had consumed earlier that evening. It should have been obvious, he thought. He had heard his parents talk about the Potters before with suspicion and skepticism in their voices, if not the same derision they used when speaking about Dumbledore. The Potters were an upstanding, classy, powerful family. Why would they approve of his own family? Why would they approve of _him_?

But didn't they know that he couldn't help it? That he had never asked to be a Black? That he never really wanted to be a Slytherin and didn't care about the purity of blood? How could he prove it to them, to all of them? Anger and desperation that Sirius had rarely known took up residence inside of him. He had, for a few fleeting days, thought himself welcome in the Potters' household. But he wasn't welcome there, just like he wasn't welcome in his own home. He should have stayed at Hogwarts after all. Alone.

He stumbled toward the bed. Desperate for some sort of physical release, his fists found the pillow and he started punching it as hard as he could. He knew it was stupid and that punching a pillow couldn't possibly make his last name disappear, but every time he thought about stopping he would hear Mr. Potter's words echoing in his head. _"His family is notorious for dark wizards…it's bound to have rubbed off on him…I don't know how close you should get to Sirius Black."_ He started picturing the face of his mother and his father on the pillow, hearing the words of the Howler that had been sent to him when he was sorted, seeing Marshall Avery's sneers and the blood from that night in April, hearing the hisses of the other Slytherins and the whispers and seeing the funny looks and evil glares and he couldn't stop punching.

There was a knocking sound, and it took Sirius several seconds to realize it was coming from the bedroom door. He turned, trying desperately to wipe the sweat from his forehead and to straighten the disheveled bed as best he could.

"Yeah?" he answered.

James walked in, just as Sirius knew he would, and just as Sirius had dreaded. The excitement on his face fell when he caught sight of Sirius.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sirius mumbled, refusing to look James in the eye.

James just stared at him for a moment before walking fully into the room and shutting the door behind him.

"You'll never _believe_ what my dad gave me for Christmas."

Sirius looked up now, wondering if he had heard correctly. Hadn't he just witnessed Mr. Potter telling James point blank not to let Sirius know about the cloak?

"What?" he asked, his voice cracking a bit.

From behind his back, James revealed a shimmering piece of silver fabric that flowed over his hands like liquid. "It's an Invisibility Cloak!" he said, ecstasy shining on his face. "Look!"

Sirius watched in awe as his friend threw the cloak over himself and completely disappeared from view. He didn't know if it was a result of watching James vanish into thin air or if he was still reeling from the fact that James was showing him the cloak at all, but his heart was beating unusually fast and he was having a hard time getting his mouth working. James's head appeared again, floating right where he had been standing before.

"Wanna try?"

As Sirius threw the cloak over his own head, an odd sense of relief flooded him, and he knew at once it was because of the fact that James had never considered keeping the cloak a secret from him, and that James cared less about Sirius's last name than he himself did. Whatever his parents had told him had not mattered to James in the least. Sirius Black was James Potter's best friend, and nothing anyone said could change that.

Sirius slid the cloak off of his head and the two boys shared identical grins. "Just think of what we can do with this!" Sirius whispered.

James's eyes misted over a bit at the thought. "Think of what we can do to Snivellus with this!"

And as they met each other's glance once more, the two boys collapsed onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned a bit too early for Sirius's liking when James burst into his room before the sun had even completely risen and started jumping on his bed. Sirius groaned and tried to shut out James's excited singing by putting the pillow over his head, but James countered by pulling all of the covers off of the bed. Finally, Sirius was persuaded to go down to the sitting room and open presents with the Potter family.

"C'mon!" James yelled, running down the steps as fast as he could. "It's Christmas and I know I got those new Wimbourne Wasps robes this year!"

Sirius just yawned and followed his friend into the sitting room, where an enormous pile of presents awaited James. James let out an excited sort of yelp and had already torn through half of his pile when his parents walked in.

"Happy Christmas boys!" Mrs. Potter said, reaching over to kiss James's head.

"Happy Christmas Mum!" James replied, so enthralled by his presents that he did not even attempt to wriggle out of his mother's grasp.

"Happy Christmas," Sirius said, hoping that he sounded normal despite the funny feeling in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he had overheard their conversation the night before.

"C'mon, Sirius," James said from somewhere underneath his bright yellow Wasps robes. "Your pile's over there!"

Sirius turned and saw a small pile of parcels stacked behind James's heap. He grinned and made his way over to them and started going through his gifts. Remus had sent him a book of jinxes that were much tamer than in the one James had found in the attic. Peter had sent him a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had given him a navy jumper, which Sirius thought was quite nice of them and thanked them graciously for it. James had given him a set of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks that Sirius tried to keep out of sight of the disapproving eyes of James's parents. There was another, flat-shaped package from James, and Sirius looked at him curiously.

"You got me two?"

James grinned. "I couldn't resist."

Sirius tore into the wrapping to find another book, this one glossy and with pictures that, strangely, did not seem to be moving at all. He flipped it open to discover page after page of pictures and descriptions of different kinds of Muggle cars.

"It's…it's a _Muggle_ book! You got me a _Muggle book_ about motorcars?"

James rolled his eyes, but the grin betrayed his lack of annoyance. "I take it you like it then?"

Sirius let out a gleeful laugh and flipped through more of the glossy pages. "Oh, it's brilliant, just blood– sorry Mrs. Potter – just _brilliant_!"

"You're mental, you know that?"

Sirius ignored him and sat back to read through his new book as James continued to sift through his own presents. About the time that James had gotten to the bottom of his pile, there was a sharp tapping on the window and all four of them looked up to see a pitch black owl that Sirius recognized only too well sitting outside the window.

"Well I wonder whose owl that is?" said Mrs. Potter as her husband jumped up to let the bird in.

Sirius gulped and set his new book aside. The Black family owl, Zek, flew straight to him and held out his leg, to which a letter was attached. Sirius took the letter with trembling hands and Zek immediately flew back out the window, clearly under no instruction to wait for a reply. Trying to keep himself calm, he broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment to find a brief note in his father's handwriting.

 _Sirius -_

 _As you are aware, we have suffered unthinkable shame and disappointment as a result of your house placement, and it seems, inconceivably, that you have not requested to be re-sorted as we instructed. I advise you to remain at Hogwarts for the Easter holiday as well, if you know what is good for you. If you choose to be re-sorted, perhaps you will be permitted to return to Grimmauld Place._

 _Regards,_

 _Orion Black_

Sirius stared down at the parchment in his hands for several moments before mentally kicking himself for becoming so worked up by his parents. There was no point to the note other than to remind him how much he had ashamed them. The passive vindictiveness was much more his mother's style than his father's, and Sirius could just picture her ordering him to send it. It was the first time, Sirius realized, that his father had ever written him anything at all.

He didn't know whether to laugh or hit something again, and the guest room pillow was too far away at the moment.

"What is it?" James asked bluntly.

Sirius shrugged and tried his best to play it off. All three of the Potters were staring at him curiously.

"Just a stupid letter from my dad."

Avoiding eye contact with the three of them was impossible and he found himself staring at James's mother, who was looking back at him with an expression he had not seen her use yet. He broke her gaze and cleared his throat, starting to feel immensely uncomfortable and as if he were sitting in a bright spotlight.

"I need to use the loo, excuse me," he muttered, crumpling his father's note in his hand and practically running from the room and up the stairs. On the upstairs landing, he stopped and leaned his back against the wall, trying to slow his heartbeat and quell the infuriating prickling at the back of his eyes, though it didn't seem to be working very well.

"Sirius?"

Sirius spun around to find Mrs. Potter standing at the top of the stairs, looking at him with that same curious expression. Before he could say or do anything though, she had crossed the landing and had enveloped him in her arms. And even though his face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment, even as he fought to swallow the mortifying lump that sat painfully in his throat, it occurred to Sirius that he couldn't remember the last time that anyone had hugged him.


	8. 1-8 or 'Into the Slytherin Common Room'

**Chapter 8 - 1.8 or "Into the Slytherin Common Room"**

Christmas had come and gone, and Lily had mixed feelings about returning to Hogwarts. It had been a strange two weeks in Cokeworth, and not an entirely pleasant visit. As much as the thought pained her, she was excited to get away from Petunia again. Her older sister had barely said one word to Lily since she had arrived home, staunchly ignoring her, even when Lily was simply trying to make polite conversation. Lily had done her very best to make amends, but Petunia seemed beyond reason. She could only hope that once she was back home for the summer, she would be able to convince her sister to come around. Perhaps they just needed time.

Still, though, being home had its perks. In the excitement of her first term at Hogwarts, she had forgotten just how much she loved spending time with her parents, who had doted on her over the break. Her mother had taken her Christmas shopping and had cooked all of her favorite meals, and her father had peppered her with questions about life in the castle, where she did her best to properly explain potion-making and to do justice to Quidditch.

Being home had also allowed her to spend more time with Severus, though not as much as either of them would have liked. Petunia insisted that she had developed an allergy to "that boy" and had started sneezing violently every time Severus came by the Evans' residence, so their time there had been limited. The biting cold and heavy snow had kept the young friends from taking refuge in the park, which had been their favorite haunt before Hogwarts, though they had braved the elements on a few occasions to rendezvous there. And, of course, Severus's house was out of the question.

The separation from Hogwarts had also shined a light on the strain in their friendship. Neither Lily nor Severus had brought up the Slytherins' attack on her in the corridor, or Severus's role in it. Neither of them had approached the subject of their discussion that had followed, or her disappointment in him. They avoided any of topic of conversation that might stray too closely to house loyalties or potential friendships. Their fellow first years had not been mentioned at all. At times, Lily felt as if her friendship with Severus were a small boat that she was navigating through a shallow gulley. Petunia had been the first jagged rock that ripped through the hull. Now it felt as if there was never a moment when she wasn't scrambling to bail water out of the bottom.

The day before the start of term found Lily hurrying down the snowy street toward a few small shops near the river, exactly halfway between her house and Severus's. She was late.

"I'm sorry, Sev!" she breathed, skidding to a stop next to where he stood huddled against the side of a tea shop. He looked frozen and rather miserable, bundled in a too-large overcoat and a ratty old scarf.

"You're late," he said, as if she were unaware.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" she repeated. "It took longer this afternoon than I thought it would…my errand did…and then my mum was trying to keep me from going out on account of the snow, and…anyway, Petunia's out through supper, so we can go to my house."

"You came all the way here to tell me we can go to your house?" he asked, turning to watch as a harried-looking woman exited the shop, ducking her head against the swirling snow. A tinkling of a bell over the door could be heard briefly before the door snapped closed again. "Why can't we just go to the park?"

Lily looped her arm with his and started pulling him back toward where she had come from. She had expected this argument. "My mum says I can't go to the park because it'll be dark soon. She said you can come to my house until supper."

He allowed himself to be pulled along reluctantly. The streets were fairly empty on account of the heavy snow, and the two hurried along, trying to step in other people's footprints to better keep their shoes dry.

"You should have owled, so you didn't have to come all the way down here just to turn right back round."

"I don't have an owl, Sev, you know that."

"Well you need one."

"Yes, and I also need some dragon-hide boots and a mink stole, but I'm saving my quid for a diamond-encrusted hat." He did not laugh at her sarcasm. She sighed. "I can't afford an owl, Sev."

He nodded, but apparently didn't feel like there was an appropriate response to this. They both knew that he could not afford an owl, either. "I'm not supposed to go to your house," he said, breaking the silence as they turned onto her street. "If my parents find out –"

"Then I reckon they'll be happy you didn't die of frost bite sitting on a park swing," she said cheerfully. It wasn't as if his parents had forbade him to go to her house. In fact, she wasn't entirely certain that his parents knew they were friends at all.

They approached the house and Severus eyed it warily. "Is your dad home?"

Mr. Evans had never been overly friendly to the odd little boy who followed Lily around, though he had never been outright rude to Severus either. Severus always acted a bit twitchy around him, though.

"No, he's at the factory. He'll be home near supper."

"All right," he said. They both discarded their snowy shoes outside the back door and stepped into the small, bright kitchen. The warmth of the room spilled across Lily's face pleasantly as she brushed snow from her hair and unwrapped her scarf. Severus sat down awkwardly at the small kitchen table.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked, tossing her scarf and coat onto a hook by the back door.

He nodded. He looked very out of place in his large overcoat, which he made no move to take off. "Why did you want me to come here? We could have just walked round like we did on Thursday."

Lily pulled herself up onto the counter, rising up on her knees in order to reach the top shelf of the cupboard, where the cups were stored. It wasn't until she had retrieved a pair of teacups and hopped back down to put the kettle on that she answered him.

"Because I have a surprise for you, and I didn't want to give it to you sitting on a snowy park swing in the middle of a blizzard." He just blinked at her. "You can take off your coat, you know."

With a resigned sigh, he removed his scarf and began unbuttoning the coat. "I'm still trying to thaw," he said, a hint of a smile on his face. "I was standing out there waiting for you for twenty minutes."

"I said I was sorry I was late," she said, taking his scarf and coat and hanging them next to hers. "But I had a good reason. You'll never guess what I did today."

"I won't?"

"No, I reckon you won't."

"Well, you'd better just tell me then."

She sat down across from him and leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "I Floo-ed!"

"You – what?"

"I Floo-ed!" she repeated. "I took the Floo Network all the way to Adin's house and then we went with her dad to Diagon Alley and then I Floo-ed back here. That's why I was late."

He did not seem impressed. On the contrary, he shifted away from her and crossed his arms sullenly. "You were late because you were busy with your other friends? Why didn't you just say so?"

"It wasn't like that, Sev. I asked Adin if I could go to Diagon Alley with her because I had to pick up your surprise. But anyway, you're missing the point. I used Floo powder for the first time! Have you ever Floo-ed before? I mean, it was _brilliant_." She paused. "Okay, it was terribly uncomfortable, but it was still brilliant."

"Of course I've Floo-ed before, Lily." He rolled his eyes. "I'm a wizard, after all. We used to Floo to my grandfather's house in Blackpool."

She swallowed down the barb he had shot at her and stood to remove the kettle when it started whistling. "I didn't know you used to visit your grandfather."

"We haven't in a few years," Severus mumbled, picking at the biscuit he had taken but not tasted. "He and my dad don't get along on account of my dad being a Muggle. My dad said we couldn't see him anymore."

Lily paused briefly as she poured the water into the teacups and looked at him, but he wasn't looking at her. He so rarely told her anything about his family, and she had learned over time not to ask too many questions, or he would just retreat into sullenness. She set the cup in front of him and rocked backwards on her heels.

"I think it's time for your gift," she said, grinning at him.

"Why'd you get me a gift?"

"For your birthday, silly!"

"My birthday's not for another week, Lily."

"I know that, but I had to get it in Diagon Alley, so I already have it. Unless you'd prefer that I keep it all for myself…"

The beginnings of a smile pulled at his lips. "Go on, then."

She smiled brightly and ducked down to open the cupboard under the sink, where she had hastily stashed the gift earlier. "Now as I was already running late, I didn't have a chance to wrap it," she told him as she straightened and hid the gift behind her back. He just shrugged at her, and she could tell he was eager despite his outward nonchalance. "Ta-Da!"

From behind her back, she revealed a simple book with a cover the color of sawdust and a title in faded black script: _Incantational Theory_. Severus took it from her gingerly and looked down at it. He didn't say anything.

"It – it's the one you mentioned, when we were trying to figure out the Charms homework last month, remember? You were annoyed because the library didn't have a copy, even though it's an O.W.L. standard text." He still said nothing, and she faltered. "I know it's not new. I had to get it second-hand…but I don't think it's in such bad shape…just that corner is bent a bit…"

Finally, he looked up at her and grinned widely. "It's perfect."

She let out a relieved breath and sank back down into the chair across from him, swirling her teacup. "The shopkeeper in Diagon Alley thought I was barmy, buying such an advanced book for a first year. But I told him he doesn't know my best friend, who could run circles round most of the N.E.W.T. students."

A faint blush dotted Severus's pale cheeks, and he returned his gaze to the book, flipping through the first few pages eagerly. She allowed him to absorb himself into the book for a minute or two, as she sipped on her tea and watched him happily. Things had been so difficult between them lately, and it was wonderful to bring him a bit of joy, when she knew no one else would. She was just about to suggest that they retreat into the sitting room to play chess when he spoke, almost as to himself.

"There it is, right there, about the Latin root incantations. I knew it. I told him, but Avery was prattling on about the Greek –"

He cut off and looked up at her, as if only realizing what he had said. Lily tried to keep her face stoic, but it was like being doused with cold water. It was the first time either of them had mentioned any of the other Slytherins since they had ambushed her in the corridor…

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, snapping the book shut and staring down at the nondescript cover as if she had scolded him.

"It's all right," she said, and despite the way her stomach had squirmed at his words, she realized she meant it. "Really. I mean, we'll be going to school with them for the next seven years, it's not as if I can just pretend they don't exist."

"Well…" He seemed to be fighting something. "I – I _am_ sorry. About…about everything."

She nodded her acceptance, but he fidgeted nervously in his seat, still not meeting her eye. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper.

"You were wrong, though…when you said they're my mates. They're not. I've only ever spoken to them a few times ever, even though I share a dormitory with them. They aren't my friends."

It was odd now to feel sorry that he wasn't friends with such horrible boys, boys who attacked her and taunted her and called her names. He looked so dejected sitting there, when he had been so happy only minutes before.

"Well, they're missing out, then." She said, grinning at him and biting into one of the biscuits from the tin. He looked back up at her and smiled before also nibbling on the corner of his biscuit as if to distract himself.

Their moment was interrupted when the back door opened in a burst of swirling snow and Petunia Evans walked into the house, brushing snowflakes from her coat and looking foul-tempered.

"Tuney!" said Lily in surprise as Severus sprang to his feet and positioned himself next to Lily. Petunia froze at the sight of him, her mouth opening in slight shock for a moment before snapping into pursed disapproval. She closed the door behind her.

"What's _he_ doing here?" It was the first thing Petunia had said to Lily other than 'Pass the salt' since Lily had returned from school.

"We're only having a cup of tea," Lily said. "Mummy said it was all right. I thought you were out for the evening?"

Petunia removed her coat and went to hang it on the hook, but froze when she saw Severus's too-large overcoat hanging there instead. Lily hopped up and removed her friend's coat and scarf, holding them awkwardly in her hands as Petunia went to hang her own in their place.

"The snow's supposed to get worse, so Janie's mum brought me home," Petunia said at length, not looking at either of the other occupants in the room, but examining her fingernails instead. "And _he_ needs to leave. I'm allergic, remember?"

" _Tuney_!"

Petunia placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Lily. She seemed to have grown quite a lot while Lily had been away, and now more closely resembled a young woman than the child Lily had grown up with. As if she had planned it, her face quivered for a second and she sneezed – a high-pitched, trilling ' _a-choo!'_ that grated on Lily's ears. Then she raised a challenging eyebrow at Lily, her hands still on her hips.

"You're being ridiculous," said Lily. "You're not _allergic_ …"

Petunia sneezed again. Lily wondered vaguely if her sister had learned how to do so on command.

"It's all right," muttered Severus, moving to take his coat and scarf from Lily. "I'll go."

"You don't have to –"

Another sneeze, louder this time. Lily glared at her sister, but Petunia flounced out of the kitchen without another word, more sneezes echoing from the hallway into which she had disappeared.

"Really," said Severus, fastening the buttons on his ridiculous coat. "I – I'll just see you tomorrow."

"Sorry," Lily mumbled, suddenly feeling terribly guilty not only about the way Petunia had treated him, but also about having to send him back to his parents' house. She could see the dread in the way his fingers fumbled with the buttons. "Are you sure you –"

"Yes," he cut in. He picked the book she had given him off the kitchen table and stowed it securely in his pocket. "Thanks for the book."

"Happy birthday," she offered lamely. He shrugged at her and went to open the door. It wasn't until he had slipped his shoes back on and had started down the walkway toward the street that Lily's voice stopped him. "Oi! Sev!" He turned and looked back at her curiously. "Sit me with on the train tomorrow?"

And even through the thick snow, she could not miss the wide smile on his face. "Definitely!"

She watched him until he disappeared in the fading light. After she had closed the door and retreated back into the warmth of the kitchen, she moved to clean up the tea cups that sat forgotten on the table. Another piercing sneeze sounded from the next room.

" _For goodness sake,_ Petunia!" she shouted, her annoyed voice echoing off of the kitchen appliances. "He's gone now!"

* * *

On September 1st and his first ever train ride to Hogwarts, Remus Lupin had sat huddled in a compartment with three very awkward Ravenclaw second years, who asked him what his name was and then proceeded to ignore him for the duration of the journey. The trip had seemed to last an eternity, a seemingly unending sort of purgatory that Remus sat in, plagued by his own terror of what was to come (mixed only with a trickle of nervous excitement). It was no surprise, then, that Remus's second ever train ride to Hogwarts – returning to the castle after the Christmas holiday – seemed to fly by in no time at all. He was, after all, once again in the company of James, Sirius, and Peter…his friends.

Remus's holiday had been a struggle. His parents, though obviously happy to see their son, had become anxious as soon as Christmas was over and the full moon loomed ahead of them. During the fall term, not only had Remus become used to transforming every month on the edge of Hogsmeade, but Lyall and Hope Lupin had similarly gotten used to quiet full moon nights in their little cottage. The abrupt change of being locked once again in his parents' basement had caused the wolf that had emerged on New Year's Eve to be more aggravated and violent than ever before. The transformation had been the worst of his life, and while Remus was just now able to function normally again without the sharp pains in his muscles, the true torture had been watching the effect that his pain had on his mother and father.

The journey on the Hogwarts Express, it followed, was a relief. The ride was filled with James and Sirius's usual raucous laughter and Remus laughed along with them, feeling more at home in the company of his friends than he had felt since leaving Hogwarts several weeks prior. In an effort to keep Sirius's visit to the Potters' house a secret from his family, Remus and James were sent down the train at one point to scout where Narcissa was sitting, though they returned a half-hour later to report that there was no sign of the blonde Slytherin in any of the train cars. This livened Sirius up immensely, and when the trolley came around midday, Sirius treated them all to more Pumpkin Pasties and Licorice Wands than any of them could eat.

Throughout the ride, James kept up a continual stream of hints about something exciting that he wanted to show Peter and Remus, but he wouldn't give them any clues as to what it was.

"Anyone could overhear us in this compartment," James said when Peter asked what it was for the fifth time. "It's too risky for something as important as this."

Remus could tell that James was basking in their suspense. It was also painfully obvious that Sirius was in on the secret, as he didn't seem remotely interested to discover what it was. Despite his curiosity, Remus felt like they were back at Hogwarts in no time flat and smiled when he recalled how terrible his first trip had seemed. Then again, his first trip on the train hadn't been spent in the company of James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.

After a hurried dinner, the four boys rushed up to their dormitory, and, just as they had done while planning the prank on Snape, they all crowded onto James's bed. James closed the curtains around them.

"Just in case Goomer comes up early," he explained. "I don't want anyone else to know about this."

Despite his eagerness to see whatever it was James was about to show them, Remus felt a glow of warmth at the idea of being included in something that was obviously so important to James.

James was taking an aggravatingly long time digging around in his bag for whatever it was, and Remus could tell he was doing it for effect. After a moment, Sirius said loudly, "Oh come on, James, and get on with it already. Pete's about to pass out from excitement."

Peter, who had been bouncing a bit in his anticipation, became still at once. James stood up next to the bed with his hands behind his back, grinning broadly. After a few seconds, he brought his hands out and revealed a silvery cloak.

"What is it?" Peter asked, instinctively reaching out to touch the material, but then hovering his fingers just above it, as if unsure if he was allowed.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak!" said Sirius, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

Remus felt his eyes go wide. "An Invisibility Cloak?" he repeated, awed. "No way."

"For real?" Peter whispered, his hand still lingering above the fabric awkwardly.

"You can touch it," James told him, laughing a bit.

Remus reached out tentatively after Peter and ran his fingers over the silver fabric. It felt as if it were made of water, but he didn't have much time to ponder the strange texture before Sirius said, "Put it on, James! Show them!"

James threw the fabric over his shoulders and his body disappeared entirely. Remus had never in his life seen anything quite like it, and he went to a school for magic. It was unbelievable.

"That's the most amazing thing I've ever seen," he said truthfully.

The boys took turns passing the cloak around to try it on. Remus could tell that there was something else that James and Sirius hadn't yet revealed, made apparent by the fact that they both looked like they always did when they were planning on breaking the rules. After a few minutes, once the excitement had tapered off a bit, Remus surveyed them shrewdly.

"Well?" he asked expectantly.

"Well what?" said Sirius. If Remus hadn't seen Sirius pull that innocent face a million times before, he may have fallen for it.

"We're not daft. You two are planning something and we want to know what it is!"

"We're going out in it," James said, not even attempting to deny the accusation. "All four of us. I think this cloak is plenty big enough for all of us if we squeeze together just right."

"Come on," said Sirius, hopping off of James's bed. "Let's make sure we can all fit."

He and James moved side by side. Peter jumped off the bed to move beside them, but Remus remained where he was, confused.

"We're going out now? We don't need the cloak to go out now. We have almost an hour until curfew."

"Remus!" gasped Sirius in feigned astonishment. "Are you suggesting that we go out _after hours_ even when it's against the rules?" He and James started sniggering.

"Well that's what we usually do, right?" said Remus, completely nonplussed.

"Ah, but tonight is different you see," James explained. "Tonight we have to go out before curfew because we have to follow some Slytherins while we're underneath the cloak…"

"…because that's the only way to get into the Slytherin common room!" finished Sirius with a flourish.

Remus sat for a moment, absorbing what his friends had just told him. Perhaps borne of his giddiness at being back at Hogwarts, perhaps the result of being included in James and Sirius's next caper, but Remus felt a slow smile spread across his face as he moved over to where the others were standing.

"Okay," he said, "let's make sure we all fit under this thing."

It took a while (" _Too long_ ," grumbled an impatient Sirius), but eventually the four boys were able to arrange themselves in such a way to be completely concealed by the cloak, though they had to keep an eye on the tips of their shoes and their wandering elbows. They removed the cloak in order to descend the boys' staircase and climb through the portrait hole, and once in the corridor, they ducked into a shadowy corner to don it once more before hurrying off in search of a Slytherin to follow into the common room.

"How about that girl?" whispered Peter as they crept down the Transfiguration corridor. He was pointing at a striking blonde girl at the end of the hallway, who was walking slowly and looking around, as if to check and make sure that she was alone. "Maybe she's in Slytherin!"

"Don't be thick, Peter," said James, "that's Bayle Kamana. Every bloke in school knows who she is. She's a Ravenclaw sixth year."

Remus didn't say anything. He had certainly noticed the girl in the corridors before, but he had never known her name.

"I wonder what she's doing?" said Sirius, watching her with narrowed eyes. "It's almost curfew and she sure is acting funny down there."

They stood frozen and watched as Bayle opened the door to a classroom at the end of the corridor, glanced around at the seemingly empty hall again, and then slid inside the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. For a moment, no one said anything, as they just stared at the door she had disappeared behind.

"We really should get going," Remus said in a funny voice. "If we want to find a Slytherin to follow, I mean."

The others didn't seem to hear him and Remus made no attempt to keep moving.

"Come on," said Sirius, "let's go see what she's up to."

The boys crept slowly toward the end of the corridor. Ensuring that all of their elbows and toes were still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, they paused in front of the door to the classroom and glanced at one another. With a nudge from James, Sirius reached out and pulled the door silently open enough for them to all stick their heads inside.

It took a moment for Remus to see inside, but he felt his face growing hot when he realized what they had intruded upon: Bayle Kamana, tightly entwined and fervently kissing none other than Stuart Bones. Remus knew that they shouldn't be witnessing the private moment, but his legs didn't seem to want to move. James, apparently realizing who exactly they had walked in on, let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a cough. Sirius slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late – the damage had been done. Bayle and Stuart sprang apart and looked straight at where the boys were standing, invisible in the doorway.

"That's odd," Bayle said, "I could have sworn I closed the door."

As she walked toward them, they began backing away from the door as silently as possible. They had only just felt their backs bump into the wall on the other side of the corridor when the door to the classroom snapped shut in front of them. The boys looked at one another under the cloak for a split second before breaking into fits of hysterical laughter. Remus really didn't know what was so funny, but his own discomfort and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation kept him laughing so hard he thought he might have cracked a rib.

"Oh Merlin," James wheezed between laughs. "I can't wait to take the mickey out of Stu tomorrow."

" _Bayle Kamana_ though," laughed Sirius. "I mean, good for old Stu, yeah?"

Once the laughter had subsided a bit, they started off again on their hunt for a Slytherin to follow, though they intermittently had to pause when Peter would break into fits of high-pitched giggles.

"Would you shut it, Peter?" Sirius snapped, the third time this happened. "Haven't you ever seen people snogging before?"

"No!" said Peter defensively. "My parents don't exactly snog each other when I'm standing right there!"

James gagged dramatically. "Eurgh. Thanks a lot for that mental picture."

"Just think of Bayle Kamana," Sirius told him. "She'll chase all the bad mental images right out of there."

"Yeah," said James in a dreamy voice, "she sure is –"

But what James thought of Bayle Kamana was silenced when they walked around a corner of the Potions corridor and saw Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black walking toward them, each in a traveling cloak.

"Shh!" Remus slapped a hand over James's mouth.

"Slytherins," Peter whispered unnecessarily. He sounded gleeful.

They all stood rigid and silent as Malfoy and Narcissa swept past them and turned the corner. The boys waited for a few seconds before creeping behind the pair.

"Merlin, if they're off to snog too, I'll lose my supper," muttered Sirius, but he needn't have worried. The Slytherins turned down a damp corridor that none of them had ever navigated before and came across a stretch of dark, bare, stone wall.

"Basilisk," Malfoy said to the wall.

As the wall opened to reveal the Slytherin common room, the four boys clambered in behind Malfoy and Narcissa, doing their best to remain silent and unsuspected. Remus looked around the long room and felt the hairs on his arms stand up. Unlike Gryffindor Tower, the Slytherin common room was cold, damp, and especially uninviting.

"I think we're under the lake," Remus whispered to his friends.

"Where _is_ everybody?" Sirius asked quietly. "Why is it so empty this time of night?"

Remus looked around again. Sirius was right – there were only a few younger students scattered about the room, and a small group of sixth and seventh years on the opposite side, talking lowly and glancing around suspiciously. Something was indeed strange about the situation. The Gryffindor common room was always loud and bustling in the evenings.

"Shh," said James, nodding to Malfoy, who was approaching the few younger students left in the room. "Look."

The four boys were too far away to hear what Malfoy said to the younger Slytherins, who immediately grabbed their books and scampered down a narrow corridor, which Remus supposed led to the dormitories. Clearly, whatever Malfoy had said to make them leave had been very convincing.

Once the footsteps down the corridor died, Malfoy approached the group of older students, who fell quiet as he neared them.

"Let's move closer to hear them better," whispered Sirius.

Remus heard a whimper from the other side of James and knew that Peter was as nervous about the idea of eavesdropping on a group of older Slytherins as he himself was.

"I thought we were coming here to prank Snape?"

"Oh Remus," said James, "we can do that any old time. Let's see what Malfoy is so determined to tell his mates in private."

As one, the boys sneaked closer to the group of Slytherins, who were all looking very seriously at Malfoy. The only student Remus recognized other than Malfoy was also the youngest by far – a third year called Rabastan Lestrange.

"You've returned, then?" said a dark-haired boy Remus did not recognize, who shifted his glance expectantly between Narcissa and Malfoy. "Did you have any issues getting into the castle?"

"Of course not, Selwyn," said Malfoy. "We apparated not thirty minutes ago into Hogsmeade and then had the caretaker allow us entrance into the castle. Our last names still hold a certain influence over someone like Pringle, I'm sure you can only imagine."

The boy called Selwyn scowled at the slight. "Well," he said, "why couldn't you come on the train like the rest of us?"

"I had a meeting that took precedence. That's why I've asked you all here tonight."

Malfoy was acting like the host of a very eerie, very depressing party. He took a high-backed chair at the front of the group and surveyed them all.

"Narcissa here," he nodded toward the blonde, "arranged a meeting for me with her sister, Bellatrix Black as well as Rodolphus Lestrange." From his left, Remus heard Sirius make a strange noise, but none of the Slytherins seemed to have heard anything. A few eyes flickered toward Rabastan Lestrange, who shifted in his seat. There was a lengthy pause, as if for dramatic effect, before Malfoy added, "We were correct in our assumptions. They confirmed that he is continuously recruiting. Bellatrix indicated that we can be of assistance to him, here at Hogwarts."

There was a murmur of surprise that rippled around the group of students. Underneath the cloak, Remus glanced at James, Sirius, and Peter, but all three of them were watching Malfoy intently. Who was the 'he' to whom Malfoy was referring?

"How can _we_ be of any assistance to _him_?" asked Selwyn with a mixture of awe and skepticism.

Malfoy sneered at the boy. "Perhaps someone as dim as you can't be, Selwyn, but anyone else interested may accept this task of great importance that Bellatrix and Rodolphus have awarded us." He had his nose so high in the air at this point that Remus thought he looked like a bigger prat than usual, but many of his fellow Slytherins were gazing at him with adoration.

"What are we supposed to do, then?" piped up Rabastan.

"Your brother believes it would be prudent to have an informal recruitment here in the castle. We will keep it discreet, of course, and we don't even need to reveal anything to the students we are appraising. We will keep close watch on certain students to determine which ones have, ahem, _potential_. The younger Slytherins, needless to say, are the first priority, though we will need to quietly assess certain purebloods from other houses as well. He has allies from houses other than just Slytherin. These evaluations have been taking place for years, so our main focus should be on the younger students, as they are the ones who have yet to be assessed."

The group fell silent after Malfoy's speech. Many of the Slytherins were looking pensive, a few worried. After a minute, a tall boy in the back with rough, blunt features, spoke up.

"Rowle," he said, and everyone turned to look at him curiously. "Rowle, in Hufflepuff. He has indicated that he is supportive of the cause."

"Good," Malfoy said. "Reach out to him, Yaxley. But do it delicately."

"What about Alice Greene?" suggested the boy next to Yaxley. "From Ravenclaw?"

Narcissa laughed, and the high-pitched tinkling of it sounded very out of place in the current atmosphere. She tossed her hair behind her shoulder as everyone turned toward her, many of the boys eyeing her with interest. "Greene is dating the Head Boy," she told them. "Word is they're going out for the Auror program. You can't honestly think Alice Greene and Frank Longbottom would come round to our side, certainly?"

"You can't honestly think that _he_ wouldn't want spies within the Auror program, certainly?" retorted the first boy.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again when Malfoy raised his hand for silence.

"It's not a bad idea," Malfoy conceded, and Narcissa now turned her scornful gaze upon him instead. "Both Greene and Longbottom are old, distinguished magic with impressive lineage. But remember, we're to start with the younger potentials…"

"The Ravenclaw Greengrass," offered a boy in the back.

"Robards – what is she, fifth…sixth year Hufflepuff?"

"She goes round with that Travers…"

"Parkinson…"

"Bones…"

"You're mental if you think Stuart Bones will join up…"

"We're not going after any blood-traitor Gryffindors!"

"Of course we are, you heard what Malfoy said!"

" _Enough_ ," hissed Malfoy, and it spoke to his obvious authority in the group that everyone fell silent at once. "I've said twice now that our focus must be on the younger students, and the lot of you have only mentioned upper-years. We will keep an appraising eye on all of those referenced, and many more, but _our assignment is to assess the younger students_. Is that understood?"

There were nods and murmurs of assent.

"How will we get this information back to him?" asked the boy called Yaxley.

Malfoy gave him a calculating look for a moment before answering. "You are a seventh year, Yaxley. You will be finished with Hogwarts in June and then subsequently joining him. I shall be joining you when I am through with school next year. We will then be able to advise the inner circle as to which prospects should be considered and approached in the next few years. It will be invaluable information."

There was a pause during which the Slytherin students stared at each other in silence. Yaxley was the first one to speak.

"Well do we need to sign something or what? Are you going to tell Black and Lestrange that we're in?"

Malfoy's grey eyes swept over the rest of the students, who were all nodding to him, even Selwyn.

"I will owl Bellatrix this evening and tell her that we have a group of loyal Slytherins who are willing to keep an eye on the younger ones for the foreseeable future. That should suffice for now." Malfoy then turned his attention to Narcissa and began speaking to her in low murmurs. The others dispersed. Evidently, the meeting was over.

Underneath the cloak, Remus looked again at Sirius, James, and Peter. James shook his head slightly and Remus understood the motion to mean that they weren't going to continue with their plan to mess with Snape tonight. Sirius nodded in agreement, and the four of them made their way silently back through the common room door, which, luckily had just been opened by a hand-holding couple. They followed the couple through a few dark corridors, but eventually turned toward the entrance hall when the Slytherins turned toward the Potions corridor, and they lost sight of them.

The trek through the castle and back to Gryffindor Tower was the quietest the boys had been by far. Sirius and James didn't even snigger at the fact that the Slytherin couple was obviously sneaking off to be alone together, nor did they tease Peter when he tripped over the cloak and knocked into a suit of armor. Remus assumed that they, like him, were replaying the conversation in their heads, though he hoped that they could make more sense of it than he could.

The common room was still bustling by the time they got back, so the four boys kept the cloak covering them until they got up to their dormitory. The curtains around Goomer's bed were drawn, and light snores could be heard from the vicinity, so all four boys once again piled onto James's bed, which was the farthest from Goomer's, to discuss what they had heard.

"What in Merlin's name was that all about?"

"Whatever it was," Sirius said, "knowing Malfoy and my dear cousins, it was something horrible."

"What do you mean?" Peter squeaked, eyes wide.

"I mean, it seems like someone outside of Hogwarts is now getting information on the students in this castle from the Slytherins. And knowing the sorts of people Bellatrix runs round with, whoever this bloke is, he's definitely an evil git."

James looked troubled.

"I just remembered something," he said, standing up again and beginning to pace next to the bed. "The morning I left for Hogwarts, I overheard my parents arguing. They were talking about how I'd have to be on the lookout for kids from certain families. About how they'd try to learn too much about me and my family and stuff."

Remus stared. "Did they say which kids?"

James glanced quickly at Sirius and fidgeted with the frame of his glasses before answering. "They mentioned Avery and Rosier, but that's all I remember." Sirius made a noise low in his throat, but did not expound upon it.

"Slytherins," Peter added unnecessarily.

"So do you think your parents know about this? About Malfoy's recruitment?" Sirius said. "Do you think they're going to try and recruit you?"

James bit his lip and stopped his pacing. "I don't know. You heard what Malfoy said. About how they're looking for purebloods. I guess it's a possibility. They mentioned Stu, didn't they, and the Boneses are close friends of my family…"

"What do you think they'd want you for, though?" Remus asked.

"I bet it's just some stupid little club that Bellatrix and them are starting. 'Purebloods for the Cup' or some rot like that," said Sirius, rolling his eyes.

"There's something else, though," James said. "My parents then started talking about my grandpa. About how there was some business with some dark wizards approaching him before he died."

"What?" Peter yelped. "Your grandpa was killed by dark wizards?"

"No," said James quickly. "No, but they said these wizards wanted his help with dark magic and he refused them. And then they said…" He scrunched his face up as though trying to recall a distant memory. "Well, they said something about people wanting to know our political leanings, I think."

"Political leanings?" echoed Sirius, frowning. "Like who your parents support at the Ministry?"

"I don't know," James said, sitting down on the bed once more. "Maybe. It doesn't make much sense, does it?"

Silence fell over them, as each of the boys became lost in his own thoughts.

"So what do we do now?" asked Peter at length.

"I'll talk to Stuart tomorrow…warn him about what they said…see if he has any ideas. That is, if he's not off snogging Bayle Kamana." James rolled his eyes at the thought.

Sirius drummed his fingers against his knee, clearly agitated. "The Slytherins don't know that we heard their little meeting," he said. "We'll keep an eye on them. See who they're hanging round, eating with, that sort of thing. And if they do feel the urge to approach you, James, then that just gives us an excuse to hex them halfway to hell."

Remus had never seen Sirius be so, well, serious. It was slightly unnerving.

Peter started giggling suddenly, but he stopped when they all turned to stare at him.

"Sorry," he said quickly, using his hand to try cover the remnants of his laughter. "Sorry, I just had a mental picture of some greasy Slytherin like Snivelly trying to be all matey with James."

There was a beat of silence before Sirius said, "Peter made a funny!" James smacked Peter upside the head with his pillow, and they all started laughing right along with him.


	9. 1-9 or 'Roses Are Red'

**A/N:** Hello! Please review if you're able! This one might be my favorite from 1st Year...I hope you enjoy as well!

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - 1.9 or "Roses are Red"**

Breakfast the next morning was much quieter than usual. So much so that the rest of the Gryffindor table was certain that the absence of raucous laughter from the end where James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat meant that another prank was surely on the way. The four boys, however, were oblivious to their classmates' suspicions, as they had spent most of the morning watching Malfoy, Narcissa, and the other Slytherins they had overheard the night before for any signs of strange behavior.

Unfortunately, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at the Slytherin table all morning.

"This is boring," Peter whined as breakfast was winding down.

"Shut up, Peter, and look and see who Malfoy is talking to," said Sirius, pointing to the end of the Slytherin table.

"Snivellus?" James said. "What would they want with Snivellus?"

"Well he does know more curses than most of the seventh years," Remus offered. "Maybe they think he can teach them something."

"Maybe they can teach him how to wash his hair," sneered Sirius.

James, though, didn't laugh at the joke; he had been distracted by the sight of Stuart Bones, entering the Great Hall and taking a seat about halfway down the Gryffindor table.

"There's Stu," he told his friends, nodding toward the seventh year and swinging his feet around the bench to stand up. "I'm going to go talk to him. I'll meet you in Charms."

"You're gonna be late!" Peter warned, but James had already shouldered his school bag and started down the table.

Stuart was fixing himself some toast and unfolding a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ when James sat down next to him. Surprised, he looked up at the newcomer and then grinned at him.

"Morning, James."

"Hi Stu," James said, sizing up his friend. He had known Stuart Bones his entire life, and it was strangely disquieting to have seen him kissing somebody. "Missed you all on Boxing Day this year. Nice holiday?"

Stuart shrugged and took a large bite of his toast. "Eh, you know how France is, and Mum's cousins seem to have multiplied tenfold since we last visited them, so all things equal, I'm glad to be back at Hogwarts."

"I just bet you are," said James, smirking.

"What's that mean?"

"I mean I bet you're happy to be back here with your _girlfriend."_

The glass of orange juice that had been halfway to Stuart's lips was lowered back to the table as Stuart now turned all of his attention on James and frowned. "I haven't got a girlfriend, James, what are you on about?"

"Are you quite _sure_?" needled James. "There was nobody you were happy to… _reunite_ with?"

Now Stuart narrowed his eyes at the younger boy. "You know something, you little weasel. What do you know?"

James's smirk widened. "I know you got back to Hogwarts yesterday and immediately ran off to snog Bayle Kamana in an empty classroom down the Transfiguration corridor."

There was no embarrassment on Stuart's face, only shock, as his head wheeled from side to side to make sure no one else had heard James's proclamation.

"How in Merlin's name do you know that, James Potter?"

"I know everything," James said confidently, and Stuart rolled his eyes and went back to his toast.

"More than what's good for you, to be sure," he grumbled.

"Anyway, how long has Kamana been your girlfriend, Stu?"

This, it seemed, annoyed Stuart more than anything else James had said. "She's not my girlfriend. And aren't you going to be late to your first lesson?"

The Great Hall was clearing out as students hurried off to their first lessons of the day. James looked around idly and then shrugged.

"What do you mean, she's not your girlfriend? You were snogging her, weren't you? And aren't _you_ going to be late for _your_ first lesson?"

"She's not my girlfriend, we just…well…you'll understand one day. And I've a free period first thing. Perk of being a seventh year, mate."

James tried to wrap his head around this with difficulty, but did not dwell on it. Anyway, he had more important things to discuss with Stuart than the intricacies of his social life. Omitting the detail of the Invisibility Cloak, and making it sound as if he had simply overheard the Slytherin conversation while wandering the corridors, James recounted everything he could remember about the previous night to Stuart, who looked more and more troubled as James spoke.

"They don't know that you heard them, right James?" Stuart asked once James was finished.

He shook his head. "They've no idea. I…well let's just say I'm sneaky like that."

"As I'm realizing more and more," said Stuart darkly. He had abandoned his breakfast now, and seemed deep in thought. After a minute or so of silence, he turned to look at James straight on, with every trace of seriousness on his face. "James, it's good you told me this, but don't go telling anyone else, all right? I'll…I'll take care of it."

"What do you mean, take care of it?" James asked. "And what does it all mean, anyway?"

"Don't worry about it now."

"But…"

"Don't worry about it," Stuart repeated sternly. James scowled up at him, but Stuart did not relent. "Really, though, you're going to be late to class."

"Fine," grumbled James, rising from the bench and shouldering his bag once again. "You wouldn't want to be late to your snog-fest with Bayle Kamana, I'm sure."

Stuart only laughed and gave him a shove to the shoulder as he began to hurry off toward Charms.

Charms proved to be less fun than usual. Professor Flitwick had given the first years the hour to practice levitating quills. James and Sirius grew bored of this very quickly and after a few minutes, decided their time could be better spent levitating other things around the classroom, much to the disgruntlement of their classmates.

"That's all he said, to 'not worry about it?'" repeated Sirius when James finished telling him about the discussion with Stuart.

James nodded. "He's probably not thinking straight, what with his head in girl-land and all." Sirius snorted as James levitated Raeanne's ink pot out of the open pocket of her bag. "Anyway, I don't think it changes anything. We'll still keep an eye on all those Slytherin gits and see what they're up to."

"All right," agreed Sirius, who was busy levitating Peter's book above his head. "And maybe we should have some fun with Snivellus tonight, too. You know, under the cloak."

It was unfortunately at this moment that Sirius's concentration wavered and the heavy book came crashing down on Peter's head.

"Whoops, sorry about that Peter," Sirius said, but he did not sound sorry at all.

"BLACK! POTTER!" Professor Flitwick had evidently seen the incident. James lowered the ink pot gently back into Raeanne's bag as everyone turned to look at them. "That is quite enough out of the two of you! Detention tonight!"

Sirius and James groaned.

"So much for messing with Snivelly," James said under his breath.

Remus, who was sitting in front of them with Peter, turned around and gave them an irritated look. "How are we supposed to keep an eye on the Slytherins if you two are always in detention?" he whispered.

"Oh, Remus," Sirius said. "We aren't _always_ in detention. We'll have plenty of time to watch the Slytherins and mess with Snivellus and explore the castle and do anything else we feel like doing. Don't you worry."

Remus looked as if he wanted to disagree, but thought better of it and turned back to his desk. By the end of the day, however, James and Sirius had each received detention from no less than six professors and would be cleaning bed pans in the hospital wing every night for the rest of the month.

The following weeks passed by in a slow-moving torpor of tedium for James, as he and Sirius did not, in fact, have time to prank Snape at all. Their days were filled with lessons, detentions, and every now and then, when they thought no one was looking, a bit of homework. Even the idea of monitoring the Slytherins had become mundane. None of them seemed to be acting at all out of the ordinary and after a week or two of watching them, the boys had almost completely forgotten about the meeting they had overheard.

By the time February rolled around, James and Sirius were practically climbing the walls out of sheer boredom.

"Let's DO something," Sirius whined one day at lunch. "Tomorrow's the first day we haven't had detention since the term started. We need to celebrate!"

"We can prank Snivellus," James suggested. "We haven't done that in forever."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "As much as watching Snivelly suffer appeals to me, I need something a little more exciting at the moment."

"We could explore the castle!" Peter suggested.

"I said something MORE exciting, Peter. Not something that makes me fall asleep just thinking about," Sirius snapped at him.

"Well why don't you come up with something, then, and stop moaning about it," Remus said. They all stared at him, surprised – Remus _never_ snapped at them. James had noticed how irritable Remus had been the last few days, but just chalked it up to him being frustrated with James and Sirius never being around anymore.

"Let's go to Hogsmeade," James whispered quickly, before Sirius could provide an angry retort. "Tomorrow night, let's sneak out and get the supplies for our next prank."

"Now we're talking!" Sirius said, clearly appeased. "Tomorrow night it is. Pass the potatoes, will you Remus?"

Remus, however, did not move.

"Remus?" said James. "Hello? Earth to Remus?"

But he still didn't pass Sirius the potatoes. Instead, he slowly placed his fork on his plate and stared at the table, all traces of his previous irritation now replaced by something like…fear.

"I can't go to Hogsmeade tomorrow night," he said in a low voice.

"What?" Sirius said. "Why not?"

"I…I have to go home for the night. My mum is really sick and I have to go see her."

"Your mum is sick?" Peter echoed, confused. "You have to go home?"

"Yes. I…I mean no," said Remus quickly. "I mean, she's just really sick, but they think she'll get better soon. Hopefully, I mean…hopefully she'll get better soon."

"Well did she –" Sirius started, but Remus cut him off.

"Look, sorry, but I don't really w-want to talk about it anymore. Can we change the topic, please?"

"Okay," James said slowly, glancing once again at Sirius and Peter, who looked just as confused as he felt. "Well we can go to Hogsmeade later in the week, once we have the details for our next prank worked out. We'll need to get moving if we want it to be ready for Valentine's Day. Is that all right, Remus?"

Remus swallowed hard and nodded before speaking. "Thanks," he said softly. "For not going without me, I mean."

"Of course we wouldn't go without you!" Sirius said.

"Yeah," laughed James, "we'll need your help carrying all of the supplies back, anyway."

Remus jumped up from the table at once and pulled his bag over his shoulder. The other three just stared at him.

"I have to go," he said, still not meeting their eyes. "I have to go to the, erm, Owlery. Have to send a letter before Herbology. I'll see you there."

And then he turned and walked quickly out of the Great Hall.

"Well that was strange," said Sirius. "Was it something we said?"

"No." James frowned in the direction of the door that Remus had just disappeared through. "He's been acting odd the last day or so. I didn't know his mother was sick."

"Neither did I," said Peter. "Why didn't he tell us before?"

"No, something else is going on," said Sirius, also staring at the door to the Great Hall. "Something strange. I think there's something Remus isn't telling us."

The boys all looked at each other in confusion.

* * *

Two nights later, Remus returned to the Gryffindor common room weak, exhausted, and unready to face the questions of his three friends. Guiltily, he hoped they might not be around, leaving him free to sneak up to the dormitory and get some much needed sleep. His transformation the night before had been rough. If he were being honest with himself, every month was getting worse and worse. He shuddered and blocked out the dark thoughts that fought to consume him.

He had almost made it to the dormitory staircase when someone shouted his name and he jumped about a foot in the air. Turning, he saw James, Sirius, and Peter sitting at one of the corner tables, very obviously planning something. Remus sighed and regretfully approached his friends.

"Weren't you going to say hello?" Sirius said. His tone was more confused than accusing, but Remus felt his insides shrivel with guilt.

"I didn't see you here," he lied, not meeting any of their eyes. It was pathetic, really, how many lies he had told them since he had met them. What kind of friend was he, anyway? And then, bile in his throat, another spilled forth. "I thought that maybe you were up in the dormitory."

"Sit down," offered James, nodding toward the empty chair next to him. "How's your mum?"

"Erm, she's all right," said Remus as he sat. "She can't get out of bed, that's why I had to go see her."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Hmm. What's wrong with her?"

Remus could feel his face reddening and his hands starting to shake. He clasped them tightly together beneath the table.

"The doctors –"

"The what?" interrupted Sirius.

"Th-the doctors," Remus repeated. "Muggle Healers. They don't know what's wrong with her. She's just been really ill for a long time. My dad thought it might be a good idea for her to see me."

Seeing Sirius and James exchange an unreadable glance, Remus decided it was best to get off the subject as quickly as possible.

"What are you guys planning over here?" he asked in what he hoped came off as a calm voice.

"The Valentine's prank," Peter said in a dramatic stage whisper. "We have to sneak into Hogsmeade tomorrow so we can get all the you-know-whats."

"Okay," said Remus, knowing that a prank was probably the best way to distract the rest of them from their suspicions. "Tomorrow it is, then."

James grinned and clapped Remus on the shoulder. Remus tried not to wince at the pain that shot down his spine at the contact.

"Good to have you back, mate."

* * *

As the four boys crept down the secret passage toward Hogsmeade the next night, Peter voiced a question that none of them had actually addressed yet.

"Er, how are we going to pay for all of the stuff we need for this prank?"

Remus had about three Galleons in his pocket saved up from various Christmas and birthday presents, but that wouldn't be near enough to buy all that they would need.

Sirius and James, however, weren't concerned.

"No big deal," James said easily. "I've got plenty of money. I took it out of my Gringotts vault before term started."

"You have your own Gringotts vault?" Remus asked, flabbergasted.

"Of course! Don't you?"

"No," said Remus, slightly embarrassed. "I don't think most kids our age do."

"I do," said Sirius, kicking a stone along the dark passageway. "But I can't get into it until I'm of age, my parents have to get into it for me. James just likes to go round showing off how much money he's got."

"No I don't!" James retorted. "I just offered to pay for the things we need, is all."

" _I've got plenty of money, don't you_?" Sirius said in a high-pitched voice, imitating James and prancing around in front of them with his nose in the air.

"Oh, shut up Sirius, you git."

Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. "Prat."

"Dolt."

"Idiot."

"Nutter."

"Tosser."

"Pansy."

"Wanker."

"Toe licker."

"Scum licker."

" _Slytherin_ licker."

With a scandalized gasp, Sirius mimed taking a knife and stabbing it through his heart dramatically. "That smarts, James. That smarts real bad."

James rolled his eyes and shot sparks at him. Sirius laughed and retaliated.

"Guys? Guys, can we go to the Three Broomsticks before the post office?" Peter said, which made James and Sirius stop dueling each other and look at him, mirth dancing across both of their faces.

"Always thinking about food, aren't you Peter?" Sirius laughed.

"No!" Peter said quickly. "I was just…"

"Hey, maybe that Rosmerta will be there!" James interrupted.

Sirius grinned as the boys climbed out of the fake sewer grate that hid the passageway and into the alley behind Zonko's.

"Three Broomsticks it is!" he said, leading the way.

Madam Rosmerta was indeed in the Three Broomsticks and she laughed heartily when she saw the four of them sitting at one of her tables.

"You four must have a lot of trust in me, seeing as how I know your names and I also know that you're supposed to be up at the school right now."

"We know that someone as beautiful as you would never be a dirty snitch!" Sirius said.

"Well lucky for you, I'm not one to shop students out. Particularly students who come to my place to buy butterbeer and compliment me," she laughed.

"We are in your debt then," said James, smiling slightly dazedly up at her. "Whatever you need, you'll let us know."

Her eyes twinkled as she surveyed them all before asking, only somewhat seriously, "How old are you lot?"

Remus gulped, thinking that their cover was surely blown. "We're…"

"We're fourth years," Sirius interrupted him quickly. Remus shot him a look but Sirius was too busy smiling up at Rosmerta.

"Fourth years?" she repeated, clearly disbelieving. "Well why haven't I seen you in here on Hogsmeade weekends, then?"

"We like to avoid the crowds," said James.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, we like it a bit quieter in here," Sirius said. "That way we can talk to you without interruption."

Rosmerta laughed again. "Four butterbeers, then," she said, turning back toward the bar before adding over her shoulder, "and you two are going to be quite the heartbreakers in a few years. You know, once you're _actually_ fourth years."

* * *

The next few days passed quickly, as all of the boys' free time was spent in preparation for the Valentine's Day prank. There was a lot to be done and not much time to do it. Sirius assured them all, though, that the work would be worth it and that no one had ever done a prank like this one before. He claimed it would go down as legendary if executed correctly.

There was just one hiccup.

The night before Valentine's Day, Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter were in the Owlery, having just sent off the very last of the fifty or so owls that they had to employ for the next day. In fact, they had used every single school owl that had been there when they arrived that evening. Each of the owls had departed with one of their precious envelopes and strict instructions on when, where, and to whom the envelopes needed to be delivered the following day.

It was most unfortunate, then, that Professor McGonagall chose this moment to send a letter.

The boys were just about to make their way down the Owlery staircase when McGonagall appeared. All four of the Gryffindors jumped visibly.

"Good Godric," McGonagall said, clutching her chest. "You four scared me half to death. What on earth are you doing up here at this hour? It's almost curfew, you know."

Sirius looked at James, whose eyes were huge behind his glasses.

"We were sending a letter, Professor," he said with a squeak in his voice.

"We'll just be on our way now," Sirius said, moving to step around McGonagall. "Wouldn't want to be out after curfew."

"One moment, Black." Sirius and the others froze. McGonagall had just taken another step inside the circular room and had clearly noticed the glaring absence of the fifty or so school owls that usually perched there.

"What in the…"

"Yes, Professor," Sirius said, hoping to reasonably explain the lack of owls before she became too suspicious. "We got here a few minutes ago and there was only one sad little owl left in the entire Owlery. We sent it off to Remus's parents with the letter." He paused and smiled up at her innocently. "If we had known you were coming though, we certainly would have left it for you to use."

Professor McGonagall surveyed the four of them for a moment before her eyes narrowed in what was unmistakable suspicion.

"There was only one owl left? In the entire Owlery?"

"Yes, Professor," James said. Sirius was happy to note that the squeak in James's voice was gone.

"And you used it to send a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Lupin?" she asked, gazing down at Remus.

Remus swallowed. "Yes, Professor. Just a note to my parents. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I see," McGonagall said, in a tone that suggested that she did not believe them for a second.

"I guess all the other owls are off delivering Valentines," Sirius said, before adding unhelpfully, "Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, you know."

"Hmm," McGonagall said. She was still looking at them with narrowed eyes and Sirius noticed her that her nostrils had a slight flare to them, as they tended to do when she was angry. "Well I guess I shall just send my letter tomorrow. Go on to bed, all of you. And I want no funny-business from you tomorrow, do you understand?"

The boys all nodded and raced down the stairs, putting as much distance between themselves and McGonagall as possible. They didn't speak until they were safely back in the Gryffindor common room, at which point they turned and looked at one another, horrified.

"What are we going to do?" whispered Peter. "She'll know it was us!"

"We're going to be in so much trouble," said Remus, who had gone very pale.

"Maybe she won't know it was us," Sirius shrugged.

Remus gave him a very disbelieving look. "Not know it was us? She's not stupid, Sirius. We're dead."

James sank into a squishy arm chair by the fire and ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "Well, there's nothing to be done about it now. The owls are all gone. We may as well have a good laugh tomorrow, since we're going to be in detention for the rest of our lives."

Sirius grinned at his three friends. "She has no proof that the owls weren't gone when we got there. I'll get us out of it. Don't you worry."

The next morning, however, as the boys sat down in the Great Hall for breakfast, Remus and Peter looked as worried as ever. Sirius couldn't really understand their fear – there wasn't much McGonagall could do to them. It's not as if they'd be expelled, and he was quite used to getting detentions and losing house points. In fact, the only thing Sirius was feeling that morning was sheer excitement for what was to come. They had worked hard on this prank and there was no way he'd let their hard work go to waste.

"Look," James said, nodding toward the Head Table. "Dumbledore and McGonagall aren't even here yet. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll skip breakfast this morning."

Peter seemed to brighten at this idea, but Remus remained pale and twitchy, and did not touch the food that sat before him. Sirius checked his watch. They had only a few minutes until the first owl was supposed to arrive.

"Will you stop that?" James asked, annoyed.

"Stop what?" said Sirius.

"Bouncing your leg like that. You're shaking the whole bench, you git."

Sirius had not even realized his leg was bouncing in excitement. He ceased the motion and looked around the Great Hall impatiently. There seemed to be much more giggling today than usual.

"What's the big deal with Valentine's Day, anyway?" he asked. "Why do girls go all mad for it?"

"Because they're _girls_ ," James said, pulling a face. "They like pink and hearts and girly things."

"Eurgh," said Peter. "Girls are so stupid."

Sirius rolled his eyes at him. He was about to tell Peter that _he_ , in fact, was the stupid one, when Remus pointed above the Slytherin table and let out a strange noise.

"Look," he moaned. "They're starting."

Sirius caught a quick glimpse of the crimson envelope being dropped on Snape's plate and straightened his back to get a better view. With the exception of Snape, no one else in the hall seemed to have noticed the Howler. That is, until it exploded with such a blast of noise that nearly everyone covered their ears and shrank away from the source.

"ROSES ARE RED AND VIOLETS ARE BLUE. NOW GO TAKE A BATH, SNAPE, YOU SMELL LIKE POO."

The Howler exploded into flames as the students broke into laughter around the Great Hall. Sirius had barely the chance to see Snape's mortified face, turning toward them from across the room, when another owl dropped a Howler right next to him, onto the plate of Halden Wilkes. It erupted with the exaggerated voice of a little girl.

"DEAREST WILKES, BE MY VALENTINE! I LOVE YOUR GIANT, SQUISHY, DOUGH-BALL OF A HEAD AND I AM SO VERY MUCH ATTRACTED TO BOYS WHO LOOK LIKE MOUNTAIN TROLLS. HUGS AND SMOOCHES."

There was barely a moment of peace before the next Howler exploded on Marshall Avery's plate.

"SWEET SUGARPLUM MARSHALL, I KNOW YOU'RE A GIT WITH NO FRIENDS BECAUSE YOUR NOSE IS STUCK SO FAR UP YOUR OWN BUM THAT NO ONE CAN SEE YOUR FACE, SO I THOUGHT THAT I COULD BE YOUR VALENTINE AGAIN THIS YEAR. LOVE, MUM."

The Great Hall was in chaos. Howlers were being dropped one by one to the Slytherins, and between the monstrous voices that rose out of them, the uproar of laughter from the other students, and the outraged screams of the Slytherins, Sirius wouldn't be surprised if someone standing on the Astronomy Tower could hear the din.

The Slytherin students had started running out of the Great Hall, for fear of embarrassment when the Howlers were dropped on them. It didn't seem to do much good, however; the Howlers were so loud that even as their recipients scampered away, everyone left behind could still hear the words coming from the red envelopes.

"MULCIBER, MY LOVE, I'VE ALWAYS FANCIED BOYS WHO ARE TOO STUPID TO KNOW THE PROPER END OF A WAND. LET'S RUN AWAY TOGETHER AND TORTURE PUPPIES FOR FUN! I KNOW THAT'S HOW YOU GET YOUR JOLLIES, SNOOKUMS."

After several minutes of complete disarray, James nudged Sirius, who had his head down on the table from laughing so hard.

"Look, it's McGonagall!"

The four boys all stared at the doorway to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall stood frozen, a look of utter horror on her face as she processed the commotion in the room. Then, as if drawn to them by magnets, she turned slowly and looked right at the four of them, appearing angrier than they had ever seen her.

"Oh bugger," muttered Sirius.

As she marched over to where they were seated, an owl dropped one last Howler onto Lucius Malfoy's plate.

"DEAREST MALFOY, YOUR HAIR IS SO SHINY AND SMOOTH. CAN YOU PLEASE SHOW ME HOW TO USE SHAMPOO? ALL MY LOVE, SEVERUS SNAPE."

The ringing in their ears had barely stopped, but McGonagall was upon them.

"You four. My office. _Now_."

They didn't need to be told twice. It seemed everyone in the room was watching them, the Slytherins with smug satisfaction, as they followed McGonagall into the entrance hall. No one spoke until they reached McGonagall's office. She closed the door rather loudly and stood, arms crossed, glowering down at the four of them.

"Professor, we –"

"I don't want to hear you try and talk your way out of this, Black," she said in an icy voice. Sirius swallowed. They were in for it. "I expect more out of my Gryffindors than finding enjoyment in the humiliation of other students. I am thoroughly appalled at all of you. If Professor Dumbledore were not traveling, you would be in his office right this instant!"

Sirius could feel Remus shaking next to him, and he felt a twinge of regret, knowing how scared Remus was at the moment. Out of all of them, Remus was always the one who clearly worried about getting into trouble.

"But Professor, we didn't even –"

"Don't start with me, Potter. I want to know, right now, which student helped you to accomplish this bout of immature foolery."

"Helped us, Professor?"

"Yes, helped you. Which older student procured all of the Howlers from the post office for you?"

Sirius risked a glance at James. Getting detention for sending Howlers was one thing, but they couldn't risk anyone finding out that they had been to Hogsmeade. They'd be expelled for certain.

"No one helped us," Sirius said quickly. "We got them through the post. Through owl-order."

"Well then," she said with an unreadable expression on her stern face, "if that's the case, then the full weight of the punishment will have to fall on the shoulders of the four of you, won't it?"

No one answered.

"Detention for all of you for the rest of the month. Separate detentions. Potter, you will be with me. Black, with Mr. Pringle. Lupin, with Professor Slughorn. Pettigrew, with Madam Pomfrey. And you will each write apologies to every single student you targeted today."

" _What?"_

"Professor, no!"

"Written apologies, you can't –"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Potter. On top of that, I'm taking fifty points from Gryffindor and I will be sending owls to all of your parents. I hope that the next time you decide to have a laugh at someone else's expense, you stop and think first. Now get out of my office, all of you."

Dejected and horrified at the extent of their punishment, the boys left the office. It wasn't until they were two floors away that they stopped walking and looked at each other.

"Apologies?" James said weakly.

"Written apologies," Remus clarified.

"Dear Snivellus," said Sirius. "I apologize for informing the school that you smell. Though I think they deserve to know so that they can steer clear of you."

James snorted. They all looked at each other for a silent moment before breaking into a fit of laughter.

"Did you see his face? He looked like someone had hit him with a stunner!"

"And Malfoy, when he got his Valentine?"

"And Lestrange, when it said that…"

"And Wilkes…"

"And Avery? From his mum?"

Not even trying to stifle their laughter, Sirius, James, Remus and Peter made their way to their first lesson of the day, all thoughts of punishments and apologies gone from their minds.


	10. 1-10 or 'To Be Friends Forever'

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! Here's the last chapter of first year, and it's dear to my heart, so I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - 1.10 or "To Be Friends Forever"**

To Lily's utter surprise, the second half of her first year at Hogwarts was flying by so fast that she could barely even stop to consider it. Her days were full of lessons, homework, laughing with her friends, and trying to find small pockets of time to spend with Severus. Things had been so good between them until a conversation they had had in the library at the end of February, only a few weeks after the Gryffindor boys' infamous Howler prank.

She and Severus had been trying to figure out the best way to thicken a Pepperup Potion when Lily's book was snatched off of the table. She looked up to find Marshall Avery holding it above her head tauntingly. Wilkes and Mulciber, as always, lingered in the background.

"Looking for this, Mudblood?" Avery sneered.

Lily rolled her eyes at him. "Don't you think you could come up with a better insult, Avery?"

"Don't need one. There's nothing worse than being a Mudblood."

"Well I'd say that being an ugly, pig-headed dolt is much worse, but you know all about that, don't you?"

He seemed to have no response to this, as he just sneered at her and waved the book around above her head. Lily pointed her wand at him and he eyed it warily.

"Give me my book back now, or I'll hex you so hard you'll be crying to your mummy." She paused before adding, "Or should I say, your _Valentine_?"

Avery turned red, but Lily couldn't tell if it was out of embarrassment or anger. Behind him, Wilkes and Mulciber bristled. Slamming the Potions book down loudly on the table, Avery leaned his face uncomfortably close to Lily's.

"You tell Black and the rest of your little Gryffindor boyfriends that we'll get them back for their little game when they least expect it," he spat. "You can count on it."

Lily just grinned mockingly up at him.

"Thanks for the book," she said, before turning back to her studying. Avery let out a low growl before stalking away, his friends following closely behind.

"Sorry about that," she said to Severus once they were gone. "Pesky little buggers. Hard to get rid of."

Severus didn't answer her, though. When she looked up at him, he was staring at her with a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Did you think that was funny?" he said, and she was shocked to hear the anger in his voice.

"Did I think what was funny?"

"What Potter and Black and them did to us with the Howlers? On Valentine's Day? Did you find it amusing?"

There was an iciness in his voice that Lily had never heard before. She stared at him, her brain working slowly as it tried to keep up with his train of thought.

"Of course I didn't find it funny what they did to you," she said calmly.

"That's not what it seemed like, when you were throwing Avery's Valentine back in his face a minute ago."

Her mouth fell open. "I only said that to Avery to get him to leave me alone. If you didn't notice, Sev, he came over here and started insulting me for absolutely no reason."

But Severus did not look appeased. Instead, he slammed his books shut and threw his things into his bag before standing to leave. Lily stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Sev, what are you –"

"I have to go," he cut in. The anger was still in his voice. "And for the record, they shouldn't treat you like that. But what Potter and them did to us…"

"I'm sorry, Severus. Really. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was only…" She trailed off, still feeling as if she were two steps behind his thought process. "Please sit back down."

He seemed to relax a little, but he didn't sit back down.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "But I'm just going to finish this homework later. I'll see you in class tomorrow. Really, no big deal."

But apparently it was a big deal, because he had been acting coolly toward Lily ever since. She had hoped that they would have more time to spend together over the Easter holiday, since neither of them was going home, but the startling amount of homework that the teachers were piling on before exams kept her busy well into the evenings.

As spring grew into summer, a quiet hush seemed to envelop the castle. Everywhere she looked, Lily saw students studying diligently, poring over star charts and thick, dusty books, quizzing their friends in the corridors, and keeping their eyes glued to their notes until all hours of the night. She even spotted James and Sirius studying quietly once or twice in the common room, which was a rare sight indeed.

The days before exams were torture for Lily. Growing up, she had always been top of her class, had always found that succeeding in school came naturally to her; now, she was determined to prove that she could be just as good at Transfiguration, Herbology, and Astronomy as she was at science, literature, and maths. The Slytherins could tease her all they wanted for her Muggle blood, but she would leave them no room to claim that she was not as qualified as anyone to study magic. And yet, her anxiety was so bad that she barely slept for the nights leading up to the exams. The night before her Transfiguration final, she awoke in a panic, having had a nightmare where she had forgotten her wand and had tried to turn Professor McGonagall into a teacup with only her quill.

It was a relief, then, to say the least, when Professor Sprout announced that time was up during their Herbology exam. She had done it – had gotten through her first set of Hogwarts exams. She wouldn't have to study again for more than two months.

"Let's stay outside," she said cheerfully to Adin after they had turned in their papers to Sprout. "It's such a nice day and we have an hour or so until dinner. Let's go sit by the lake."

"All right," Adin said, but she was chewing on her bottom lip, clearly distracted. "I think I messed up that paper though. Were we supposed to be writing about a Devil's Snare or a Flitterbloom? Or was it a Flutterby bush?"

"Flitterbloom," Lily told her as they ambled down the sloping grass toward the lake. "Devil's Snare has vines and Flitterbloom doesn't."

Adin groaned. "My parents are going to kill me!"

"Don't worry about it. It was only one question, I'm sure you did fine on the rest," said Lily. She spotted Mary Macdonald and Gin Leigh already sprawled out in the grass. "Look, let's go sit with Gin and Mary!"

Adin seemed to cheer up considerably as the four girls sat in the grass, absorbing their newfound freedom and discussing their summer plans.

"I'm going to Spain with my family," Adin said. "For all of July, too! I wonder what the boys there are like?"

"I reckon they're Spanish," Lily quipped.

"I bet they're dark and dreamy," Adin sighed. "And romantic. I bet Spanish boys are romantic."

The others just laughed at Adin's starry-eyed expression.

"What about you, Gin?" Lily asked. "Do you usually go on holiday in the summer?"

Gin shook her head and picked at the blades of grass next to her. "No, not usually. I'll probably just stay at home and help my mum out. She owns a shop and always needs my help when I can."

"We're not going anywhere either," Lily said. "My parents have taken us to the coast a few times during the summers, but I don't think we're going this year."

"My mum said I can go and visit Raeanne," Mary chimed in. "Which'll be nice because then I can see Goomer too!"

"Where is Raeanne, by the way?" Adin asked, looking around as if she had just noticed that the fifth Gryffindor girl was missing.

"She and Goomer went back up to the castle. They were going on and on about a Gobstones match."

Adin didn't seem to be paying attention, though. She had apparently just spotted James, Sirius, and Peter, who were down the shoreline from the girls, lounging in the grass underneath a big beech tree.

"Did you all notice that Remus didn't sit the Herbology exam today?" Adin said suddenly. "I haven't seen him since the Charms exam yesterday."

"Yes," Lily said, also turning to look at the boys down the shoreline. "Apparently his mum isn't well and he had to go home to see her."

"Why couldn't he have waited until tonight to go home, once exams were over?" Adin asked.

"I don't know," Lily said. "I didn't want to pry. His mum has been sick for a long time, that's why he's always leaving and missing lessons."

"I hope she'll be all right," said Mary. "Remus is always so nice."

Down the shoreline a bit, James, Sirius, and Peter were having a similar conversation.

"I just think it's odd," said Sirius. "One night is all I'm saying. He could have waited one more night and left right now and he wouldn't have missed any exams. But he left yesterday. Now he has to come _back_ to Hogwarts to sit his Herbology exam."

"He's been leaving every month," said James, breaking up a twig and tossing the pieces idly into the lake.

"Maybe his mum's about to snuff it," Peter said.

" _Peter!"_

"What? What else could possibly make _Remus_ of all people miss an exam?"

"He's got a point."

"Well I sure hope he's wrong. That's…horrible…"

"Remus said he'd be back tonight, though," Sirius reminded them. "If his mum were about to croak, I think he'd stay home a bit longer."

"You would think."

"I still say there's something he's not telling us," said Sirius, brow furrowed.

"Well look who it is," said a rough voice from behind them. All three boys sprang to their feet and both Sirius and James drew their wands instinctively. Avery, Wilkes, Rosier, Mulciber, Snape, and four or five other Slytherin boys were moving to surround them against the lakeshore, wands pointed.

"Wow, Avery," Sirius said, voice mocking and fingers gripping the handle of his wand, "I didn't smell you coming."

"And that's saying something, considering you've got Snivellus right there with you," said James.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

James's wand flew out of his hand with Mulciber's spell. Peter squealed and jumped behind Sirius, who shot a hex at Mulciber. The jet of light hit the Slytherin in the stomach and Mulciber doubled over in pain. Unfortunately, Sirius's wand was no match for the eight others that were directed at him.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ Rosier yelled, and Sirius's wand followed James's.

"Well, well, well," said Avery. He stepped out from the line the others had formed and paced obnoxiously in front of where the seething Gryffindors stood. "Three little Gryffindors, all unarmed. Well, Pettigrew still has his wand, but he hardly counts."

There were a few sycophantic chuckles from the Slytherins, but Avery was right. Peter was cowering behind them, and Sirius knew that he'd be no use in a fight.

"What do you want?" he spat at Avery, his eyes flickering toward the ground on the other side of Wilkes, where both his and James's wands lay uselessly in the grass.

"Revenge," said Avery, stopping his pacing directly in front of Sirius. "For the Valentines."

James let out a snort and Avery turned toward him, evidently annoyed that James would dare to laugh when he was being so very intimidating.

"Something funny, Potter?"

"A bit funny, Avery, yeah," said James, looking quite casual. "Valentine's was – what – four months ago? It took you that long to come up with your grand revenge of ambushing us ten against three?"

Avery flushed and, despite their precarious position, Sirius could not help join in on James's needling of him.

"Oh but James, that's the thing, isn't it?" Sirius said, allowing a chuckle to slip past his lips just to infuriate Avery even more. "It must have taken them the four solid months to learn that one, big, scary _Expelliarmus_ spell."

"Shut up, Black," Avery spat, the tip of his wand now uncomfortably close to Sirius's forehead. "You and your mates think you're so clever, but you won't be thinking that for long."

"Well it's not hard to be cleverer than you, Avery," said Sirius.

"Yes," said James, "a tree stump has you beat there."

This was apparently one jibe too many for Avery's patience. He shot some sort of hex at James that made him fly through the air, landing about ten feet away with a thud. Sirius growled low in his throat and made toward the Slytherin – he didn't need a wand, he'd strangle him with his bare hands – but the next second, he was hit from behind with a Stinging Hex and collapsed to the ground. Someone was yelling something at James, but Sirius was blinded for a moment by the pain of the stings. When he was able to regain his senses, he looked up to find that James had also been on the receiving end of a Stinging Hex.

"I'll kill you, Avery," Sirius gritted through his teeth. "I'll rip your bloody head off."

Mulciber stepped up next to Avery and sneered down at Sirius with amused viciousness on his twisted face. "Like we're really scared of a blood-traitor Gryfffindor," he said. "You know, you being sorted into Gryffindor may have been the best thing to happen to Slytherin, Black. Slytherin doesn't want anything to do with pansies like you."

"Right, they only want slimy bastards like you," Sirius spat, still unable to stand up due to the stinging in his legs. A wobbly moan sounded from somewhere behind him, and he turned in time to see Peter also get hit with a Stinging Hex from a Slytherin outside his periphery.

"Leave him alone," Sirius snarled to no one in particular, but the laughter from the surrounding Slytherins drowned him out.

"Come on," said Rosier, stepping forward to nudge Avery in the shoulder. "Let's get out of here before the teachers come out."

"Just one more thing," said Avery. Sirius watched in horror as he and Mulciber both pointed their wands at Peter, who was still twitching from the Stinging Hex. _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The laughter hit a crescendo as Peter was levitated out over the lake. "Are you going to run after him like you did that Muggle bint in London, Black?" Mulciber's soft voice cut through the jeering and Sirius felt his insides turn cold. "I don't think there's any blood this time…what a pity…" And with a great splash, Peter was dropped into the middle of the water.

Sirius ignored the taunts about London and focused on struggling to stand, despite the pain that had by now migrated to the soles of his feet. He glanced over at James, who seemed to be struggling with the same pain, and knew that James was thinking the same thing – that Peter couldn't swim.

By the time the pair of them made it to the water, Peter's shouts had almost completely faded, though he could still be seen splashing and flailing. They did not have much time before he would go under. He and James didn't say anything, but immediately ran into the water and began swimming as fast as they could out toward the sound of the splashing.

Even in the warm June air, the water felt like ice against Sirius's skin. His robes and shoes were weighing him down, but he swam as hard as he had ever swam in his life, James by his side, propelling his arms forward and hoping that Peter could stay above water long enough for them to reach him. Peter was flailing and yelling, but Sirius knew that he wouldn't be doing that for long.

It felt like forever, but in reality it was only a minute or two before they reached Peter, who barely had his head above water and was choking and coughing. James grabbed one of his arms while Sirius took the other.

"Are you okay, Peter?" James asked through chattering teeth.

Peter just nodded and sputtered. Sirius looked back to the shore, where a small group of students had gathered, watching. He tried to ignore the cold that was piercing his skin like knives.

"Come on," he muttered to the other two.

Supporting Peter between them, it took James and Sirius three times as long to get back to the shore as it had to get to the middle of the lake in the first place. When they finally collapsed, sputtering and coughing, on the dirt next to the lapping water, the small group of spectators converged on them. Sirius was relieved to see Lily, Gin, Adin, and Mary. At least it wasn't more Slytherins.

"Are you okay?"

"We saw everything!"

"We'll go to McGonagall!"

"You're freezing!"

"You should go to the hospital wing!"

With some difficulty, Sirius pulled himself into a sitting position and looked over at James and Peter, who were both still panting in the dirt.

"A little different from our last swim in the lake, eh?" he said to James, who sat up as well and gave him a wry grin.

"Just a touch," he said. "You all right, Peter?"

Peter nodded, but did not seem to have regained his breath enough for speech.

"I think he should go to the hospital wing," said Lily, who looked pale. For a second, Sirius remembered that many of the same Slytherins who had just attacked them had also attacked her once in the corridors, many months ago.

"N-no, no…I'm fine," Peter wheezed. "Just…have to catch…my breath."

Gin handed James and Sirius's wands back to them.

"Thanks," Sirius said. "I'll need this now to go track down those bastards and hex them to next year."

"D-don't!" said Peter, eyes wide. "It'll only make them…angrier."

"Like I bloody care!" said Sirius. "They bloody well could have killed you, Peter!"

Lily extended a hand to help Sirius to his feet. "Come on," she said calmly. "I think you should get changed out of those wet robes before you do anything else."

Sirius obliged reluctantly and the group of Gryffindors trekked back up to Gryffindor Tower. The girls walked silently behind the boys, unsure of what to say. None of them had ever seen James and Sirius so angry before.

* * *

Remus had only just arrived back in the dormitory moments before James, Sirius, and Peter came storming in. He had spent the majority of the day hidden behind Madam Pomfrey's white curtains, recovering from the aftermath of the previous night's full moon. He was achy and weak, and he was sporting a rather nasty bruise that stretched from his hip all the way up his ribcage, but as much as he wanted to crawl into his bed at that moment, he knew he had to spend the evening studying for his Herbology exam, which he would be making up the next day. Despite having already prepared for it ahead of time, Remus had a few more notes to review on the properties of fluxweed. The wolf could cause him to postpone exams, but it would never – he stubbornly insisted to himself – _never_ cause him to perform poorly on them. And so, exhausted though he was, he would study.

That was the plan, at least, until he saw the state of his friends.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you three?" he gasped, taking in the sight of their sopping, dirty robes and the fury on James and Sirius's faces.

"Remus!" Peter said. "You're back!"

"Oh…I just got back a minute ago," Remus said distractedly. "What happened to you?"

"Bloody Slytherins," Sirius growled, pulling his drenched robes over his head.

"Attacked us," said James. He removed one of his shoes and turned it upside-down so that a cupful of water streamed out of it and splashed onto the floor. "Levitated Peter into the lake."

"He could have drowned."

Remus stared at them as they finished stripping out of their sodden clothes, a merciless guilt creeping up into his stomach. Forget missing Herbology exams, his friends had been attacked and he hadn't been there to help. Peter could have drowned. He should have been there, not hiding uselessly behind white curtains in the hospital wing.

"Are you all right?" he asked Peter, who was pulling on a warm jumper.

"Yes," he said weakly. "Thanks to James and Sirius. They saved me."

Remus was silent as the others finished changing into warm, dry clothes. He felt horrible – his legs were trembling, his side aching, his head pounding, and the guilt on top of all the rest made him suddenly rather nauseated. He sunk down on his bed and tried to calm himself.

"How's your mum?" James said after several minutes of tense silence.

"She's, erm, she's okay."

"She must have been really sick to make you miss an exam," said Sirius, looking at Remus strangely. His voice was rough, and Remus didn't know if the anger was directed at him, or if it was simply a carryover from his rage at the Slytherin attack.

"Y-yes," Remus said, not meeting Sirius's eye. "They…they thought she might not make it through the night." How had it come to this? To him pretending that his mother was knocking on death's door? Were there any levels to which he would not stoop?

"But she did?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. They think she'll be all right for a little while, at least."

"Well that's good," Sirius said, but he didn't sound remotely sincere. "I'm going to dinner."

He pulled open the dormitory door to exit, James and Peter following closely behind him.

"I think I'm just going to stay here," Remus said, trying to sound calm as the bile rose quickly in his throat. "I'm not hungry."

Sirius shrugged and left the room. James, however, turned and looked at Remus.

"I'm glad your mum's okay," he said quietly, before turning and following Sirius, Peter close behind.

The door had barely snapped shut before Remus was on his knees in the lavatory.

* * *

The next twenty-four hours were horrible for Remus. He tried his best to put the attack and his friends' anger out of his mind while he attempted to study for his Herbology exam, but it was impossible to do. The guilt of lying to them, of pretending that his mother was dying, and of not being there when they needed him weighed on him heavily. The past year had been the best of his life, but he was beginning to dread the six he had left at Hogwarts. Six more years of lies. Six more years of deceit. Six more years of Sirius's suspicious questions. How could he possibly keep it up for six more years?

Sirius and James remained subdued throughout the next day, barely speaking to Remus and whispering furiously to each other at mealtimes. By the time he had finished his Herbology exam, Remus had convinced himself that they no longer wanted to be friends with him. They would be leaving Hogwarts the following day and Remus was certain that when they returned in September, his friends would have moved on from him. Perhaps, as his father would have said, it was for the best. It was easier to keep secrets when you had no friends to keep them from.

So why did it make him feel so gutted?

His fears vanished, however, that evening while he sat reading by the common room fire. James and Sirius bounded through the portrait hole and made straight for Remus, their spirits obviously much higher than they had been earlier that day, and their robes slightly singed.

"Where's Peter?" James asked him without preamble.

"I'm here!" said Peter, appearing seemingly out of thin air by James's side.

"Great, we're all here," Sirius said, throwing himself into the chair next to Remus. "James and I have had an idea. Tonight's the last night of term and we're going out."

"We're going exploring," said James.

Remus felt the knot in his stomach unclench faintly. They wanted him to come along! They didn't hate him after all! He grinned at them, relieved, and sat up a bit straighter.

"We're exploring the castle?" he asked.

"Wait a tick," said Peter, frowning at them. "What happened to your robes?"

The pair exchanged a glance but then shrugged as if the answer was of no consequence.

"Oh, we ran into Avery and Wilkes in the corridor…"

"Got into a bit of a duel…"

"Nothing major…"

"A few hexes, of course…"

"One curse from Avery, but that missed…"

"There may have been a bit of a fire…"

"But Pringle showed up to douse it and we scarpered before we could get a detention…"

"Because getting stuck in detention on the last night would ruin all of our plans."

"Right, because as we said before, we're going out tonight."

"Yes, exploring."

They both fell silent at this point, grinning gleefully and awaiting some sort of response from either of the other two boys, who were staring at them with raised eyebrows. Remus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, doing his best to keep the smile on his face from becoming too crazed. The idea that he could have been all right the following year if James and Sirius were no longer his friends was suddenly absurd – pathetically hopeful. Now that he had tasted their friendship, being deprived of it would be nothing less than torture. How could he have ever imagined a life at Hogwarts without them?

At length, he repeated his original question. "So we're exploring the castle?"

"Nope," said James, as though he had been waiting for this reveal from the moment they had entered the common room. "The forest."

Peter let out a yelp. "The forest? There's supposed to be all sorts of horrible monsters in there!"

"Don't wet yourself, Peter, we'll be under the Invisibility Cloak."

This did not seem to convince Peter of anything. "B-but I heard there are giant spiders and trolls and werewolves in there!"

Remus about choked on his own tongue. They all looked at him.

"Sorry," he said quickly, the elation he had just reveled in now dissipating.

"I don't care if you're scared, Peter," Sirius said. "We all have to go. All four of us. That's the whole point."

"We're going to make a pact," James explained, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"A pact?"

"Yes, Sirius and I have it all figured out. Come on, let's go get the cloak on. We'll it explain it all once we get down there."

Remus understood Peter's hesitation at going into the forest, but he couldn't deny James and Sirius. His relief at having been included was so great that it trumped any lingering tiredness from the day before as well as any instinctive wariness about the task before them. They weren't asking him prodding questions about his sick mother, or about his whereabouts, or about why he had to miss an exam. They were treating him as they had always treated him – as Remus, normal Remus, their friend.

By the time the boys had assembled themselves under the cloak, sneaked out of the castle, across the grounds, and made it to the edge of the forest, darkness had fallen so deeply that they were continuously tripping over one another. They had decided to wait to light their wands until they were under tree cover, just in case any nosy students were looking out the castle windows at this time of night.

"I think we can take off the cloak now," James said once they were deep enough in the forest to be covered completely by the trees.

"I thought we were going to leave it on?" said Peter, his voice about an octave higher than usual.

Someone – in the darkness, Remus couldn't tell who – pulled the cloak from their heads.

 _"Lumos,"_ he heard James whisper. The rest of them followed his lead and soon their faces were glowing in the light of their wands.

"Don't be stupid, Peter," Sirius said. "Anything that lives in here will smell us before it'll see us."

They started walking deeper into the forest. After a few minutes of winding their way through the dense trees and thick branches, Remus let the small bubble of fear that had pitted in his stomach reveal itself.

"Guys?" he said. "Er, maybe we shouldn't go in so deep. We might not be able to find our way out."

"We won't get lost," Sirius said, pointing upward. "The moon is practically full. You can see it through the trees there. We just have to follow it back out."

Remus gulped. In the distance, a twig snapping made all four of them jump. Remus saw James and Sirius look at each other and was relieved to see that they, too, seemed less confident. They began walking again, their progress slower as the path narrowed. Remus did not know where his friends were leading him, but he did not ask. He had already betrayed his fear with one question; it would not do to ask another.

And then, out of nowhere, James started singing.

"There was an old witch who swallowed a fly," he sang, his voice quiet and wobbly. "I don't know why she swallowed that fly. Perhaps she'll die!"

"What are you doing?" Sirius hissed, shining his light on James as they climbed over a thick fallen tree.

"Singing," said James easily. "My mum always says singing is the best way to distract from your own nervousness."

"You're nervous then?" Sirius prodded.

"No! I only…well, I figured one of _you_ might be nervous and I could distract you."

"Right," said Sirius.

They were quiet for some time as they walked, their beams of wandlight casting eerie shadows against the trees, and Remus was starting to get the feeling that they were being watched by something or somethings. And then…

"There was an old witch who swallowed a billywig," sang Sirius this time, and Peter tittered. "It caused her to jig, that old billywig. She swallowed the billywig to catch the fly. I don't know why she swallowed that fly. Perhaps she'll die!"

James joined him on the next verse, their quiet lilts drifting together in the darkness.

"There was an old witch who swallowed a flobberworm. Boy, did she squirm when she swallowed that flobberworm. She swallowed the flobberworm to catch the billywig. She swallowed the billywig to catch the fly. I don't know why she swallowed that fly. Perhaps she'll die!"

It was ridiculous, but James's mother seemed to have been onto something, because by the time Remus and Peter joined in, Remus had all but forgotten his nervousness.

"There was an old witch who swallowed a horklump. It makes a great thump when you swallow a horklump! She swallowed the horklump to catch the flobberworm. She swallowed the flobberworm to catch the billywig. She swallowed the billywig to catch the fly. I don't know why she swallowed that fly. Perhaps she'll die!

"There was an old witch who swallowed a doxy…"

"Wait, no, it's a clabbert before the doxy!"

"Don't be daft, a doxy can't eat a clabbert…"

"Oh, it's daft to think a doxy can eat a clabbert but not that one witch can eat all of this rubbish?"

"She's a fat old witch! Isn't that the point?"

"SHH!"

Remus held up a hand to silence James and Sirius's bickering and they all froze, looking around. Another twig had snapped nearby. They stood, waiting for some terrible creature to spring out at them from the darkness, but nothing happened. After a few tense moments, they all relaxed.

"Maybe…maybe we should be getting back?" Peter suggested.

"What? No!" James said. "We have to find a spot to do the pact."

"Why are we doing a pact?"

"We decided that after what happened yesterday, with the Slytherins," James's voice lowered angrily when he said the word 'Slytherins,' "that we have to make a pact."

"In blood," said Sirius.

"In blood?" squeaked Peter.

"Yes. In blood."

"That we'll be friends forever."

"The four of us."

"And always protect each other."

"And make the Slytherins' lives hell."

"Especially Snivellus's."

"Yes, especially Snivellus's."

"And that we will always stand by each other."

"And never, ever lie to each other."

Remus didn't know what to say. James and Sirius wanted to be friends, with _him_ , forever. He couldn't say no. The three of them were not only the best friends he had ever had, but the only friends he had ever had. But his elation at inclusion was tempered by the reality of his situation. He would be swearing to protect them; but in order to protect them, he had to lie to them. He had no choice about that. Dumbledore had sworn him to secrecy before he had even stepped foot in Hogwarts and before he even knew that James, Sirius and Peter existed. His father said that if anyone found out, he would be kicked out of Hogwarts. His secrets were just something he would have to live with.

"Okay," he said. "What do we do then?"

Sirius and James then turned to Peter, who looked very pale, but nodded his agreement.

"Brilliant," said James.

"We're looking for a good spot to do it," Sirius said. He had just raised his wand above his head, trying to see around them in the darkness, when there was another noise, not too far from them. All of them started.

"Or we could just do it here," said James quickly.

"Yeah, that works just as well."

Sirius took a small pocketknife from inside his robes. He looked at each of them once before slicing a small cut in the palm of his hand. Remus saw a bubble of blood emerge immediately. Sirius didn't even flinch, but passed the knife to James, who followed suit. When it was Remus's turn, he tried his best to look as unaffected as James and Sirius had, and bit his tongue to make sure he didn't make a noise as he slid the blade over his palm.

Peter wasn't quite as adept at hiding his pain as the other three. He was shaking so badly that the cut he made on his skin was rather ragged.

"Ouch!"

"Okay," said James. He held out his bleeding hand. "Now, everyone place their hand on top of mine, and repeat after me..."

They all piled their hands on top of James's and looked at him expectantly.

"I, James Potter..."

"I, Remus Lupin..."

"I, Peter Pettigrew..."

"I, James Potter..."

"Sirius, you prat, you're supposed to use your own name."

"Well, you said to repeat after you!"

James glared at him.

"Okay, okay. I, Sirius Black..."

"Hereby vow to always fight against smelly Slytherins..."

They all repeated his words.

"And to always protect my friends from harm. To never reveal our secrets to anyone. To never lie to one another. To be friends forever. And to never stop pulling pranks or exploring the castle, because that is what makes life fun. I swear this with my blood and if I ever break this promise, I acknowledge that I will be the subject of great torment and humiliation from the rest of us."

Remus, Sirius and Peter repeated the words, line by line, after James. When he was finished, they all just stood there looking at one another.

"Now what?" asked Sirius.

"My hand hurts."

"Oh stop whining, Peter, haven't you ever had a cut before?"

"Yes, but that doesn't make it hurt less!"

"Shh!" Remus said, his ears pricked. "I hear something!"

Indeed, there was a loud rustling nearby. It seemed to be getting closer. And then, quite clearly, they saw something large and black move between two trees.

"RUN!"

The boys took off, dodging between trees and sprinting as fast as their legs would carry them. Remus wasn't entirely sure they were going the right way, but he hoped they were at least moving in the general direction of the castle. Sirius was in front of him and Remus supposed he was going toward the moon. The thought made Remus shiver. He had no idea what that creature had been – it could have been an oversized rabbit passing by, for all he knew – but he really had no interest in finding out. The din the four of them were making as they ran made it impossible to hear whether or not they were being pursued.

Fortunately, they met no giant spiders, trolls, or other terrible inhabitant of the forest; after about five minutes, and just as Remus was worried that his achy legs would give out on him, they crashed their way out of the trees and onto the lawn, collapsing onto the grass in exhaustion. By the time they had covered themselves once more in the Invisibility Cloak and made their way back up into the castle, all of them were feeling elated at having successfully explored the Forbidden Forest and having lived to tell the tale.

* * *

She had been avoiding him, that much she could admit to herself. It wasn't difficult to do, what with exams being over and there being no lessons to prepare for. She supposed she could have sought him out after a mealtime on the last day of term, but she found herself inexplicably buoyed away by her other friends, and she didn't resist.

But the sight of him sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express was too much for her unintended stubbornness. She paused on her way back from the lavatory, quickly debated her options, and then slid open the compartment door. He looked up from his book.

"Hi Sev," Lily said, not waiting for an invitation before slipping into the compartment and snapping the door closed behind her.

"Hi," said Severus. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Oh?"

"I thought we were going to sit together."

The train swayed around a curve and Lily almost lost her balance, so she instinctively took the seat across from Severus.

"I didn't know you were thinking that," she told him. "I thought you'd be sitting with your Slytherin friends."

Something in the tone of her voice must have alerted him to her anger, and understanding registered in his dark eyes.

"Lily, I…"

"You were with them," she hissed. "Avery and Mulciber and them when they almost killed Peter Pettigrew the other day. I saw the whole thing…I saw _you_."

"They didn't _almost kill_ Pettigrew, Lily…"

"He can't swim! He could have drowned, Sev!"

"I didn't know they were going to do that. Honest! Avery started talking about revenge, and…"

"Revenge? Revenge for _what_ , Severus?"

"For the Valentines, and the Halloween rubbish, and the bloody _pink bubble_ , Lily, or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten, but I also don't think that any of those jokes warrants trying to _murder_ someone."

Severus's lips drew into a straight line, echoed only by the straightness of his back. He looked stubbornly regretful, but about what, Lily could not tell.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "I didn't know they were going to do that to Pettigrew. I thought it'd just be some jinxes…maybe send Potter and Black to the hospital wing for an hour or two…give them, I dunno, antennae or something…"

She sighed and turned her gaze toward the window. They were out of the mountains now, and bright fields flew past in blurred greens and browns. She was sad to be leaving Hogwarts, had been glum for the last day, and perhaps she was taking her sadness out on him. It was beautiful, the scenery, and Lily thought for the first time that she very much liked riding trains. She just wished that this particular train was headed in the opposite direction.

"Lily?" he said after a while, his voice tentative as though wondering whether she had gone into some sort of comatose state, watching the scenery fly by.

His voice snapped her out of her daze. She stood and gave him a small smile. "I'm going to sit with my other friends for the rest of the ride," she told him. He slumped a bit in his seat. "I won't see them for the rest of the summer…"

"All right," he muttered, turning back to his book. It was, she realized, the book she had given him for his birthday. He had scribbled here and there in the page margins.

"Tomorrow," she said as she slid open the compartment door again, "meet me at the swings? One o'clock?"

He did not take his eyes off of his book for a few seconds as he seemed to mull over her suggestion. Eventually, he looked up at her, and though she could tell he was trying to keep his expression impassive, there was a ghost of a smile on it anyway.

"All right," he said again.

* * *

Despite their glee at the thrilling excursion of the night before, all four of the boys were in slightly lower spirits the next day. James knew that they were all going to miss the castle, their adventures, and each other's company over the summer, but none of them more than Sirius. He was subdued for the entire train ride to King's Cross. James could tell he was dreading the next two months spent in his parents' house; he hadn't had to face them since the sorting, but there was clearly no way he could avoid them all summer.

So James spent a great deal of the train ride trying his best to cheer his friend up by recounting all of the brilliant jokes they had gotten away with that year, but Sirius remained sullen. As they were pulling into King's Cross, James voiced the best idea he'd had yet.

"You should all come to my house to visit this summer," he said. "It'd be great!"

"Really?" Peter said. "We can really come to your house?"

"Sure!" said James. "What else am I supposed to do all summer?"

"I'll try," Remus said sheepishly. He shifted in his seat. "I'm not sure if I'll be allowed."

"I'll get my mum to owl your mums making sure it's okay," said James. "What do you say, Sirius?"

Sirius just shrugged. "That'd be great. You know, if my parents don't lock me in the dungeon for two months straight."

James looked at Remus and Peter awkwardly, unsure as to whether Sirius was joking or not. When the train shivered to a halt, James said his goodbyes to Remus and Peter, and reiterated his promise to owl as they dragged their trunks onto the platform. He turned to Sirius, who was lagging behind in the compartment.

"Maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

"Maybe it'll be worse."

"I'll write you every week," James promised. "And I bet your mum will let you come. She let you come for Christmas."

"She didn't know I went to your house for Christmas."

"Oh yeah…"

Sirius stood up and grabbed the handle of his trunk. He looked as if he were steeling himself for battle. James supposed that was exactly what he was doing, in a way.

"Just think," James said as the two of them navigated their trunks – and in James's case, Ari's cage – through the narrow corridor toward the exit, "only two months and we'll be back at school. And we'll be second years! That means we'll have a whole new group of firsties to mess with!"

Sirius nodded and James thought he saw a flicker of a grin cross his face.

"Next year will be even better than this one, mate. I guarantee it."


	11. 2-1 or 'A Name For Ourselves Now'

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews! And so, the second year begins...

* * *

 **Chapter 11 - 2.1 or "We Need a Name for Ourselves Now?"**

Two more weeks. Two more weeks and he'd be back on the Hogwarts Express, back with his friends, back to wreaking havoc and laughing constantly. Two more weeks and he'd be out of Grimmauld Place.

It had been, to put it mildly, the worst month and a half of Sirius's life. When he had got off the train at platform nine and three-quarters, his mother had been waiting for him, but instead of the warm embraces and excited welcomes that has classmates had received from their parents, Walburga Black had simply looked at him, turned on her heel, and marched out of the station, Sirius trailing miserably behind her. Once they had arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been ordered to his room, where he had stayed, with the exception of mealtimes, ever since.

He had expected yelling, berating, foul words, valuable family heirlooms thrown across the room, less-valuable family heirlooms thrown at _him_ , and all sorts of horrible punishments from his mother. She had surprised him, then, when she staunchly ignored his presence completely. She lavished praise on Sirius's brother Regulus at every chance she could get, making snide remarks about how _he_ would never turn his back on his own lineage and how _he_ would never break her heart. This didn't fool Sirius – he knew she didn't have a heart to break.

His father's reaction had been less surprising. Orion Black had visited Sirius's bedroom on the very first night of Sirius's return to London. Sirius knew immediately what was coming; his father never had anything to do with him except for administering his punishments. He stood up as his father stepped inside. The door snapped closed and his father suddenly loomed very tall.

"Hello, Father," Sirius said, doing his best to rid his face of all emotion.

"Stand up straight," his father commanded by way of greeting. Sirius pulled his shoulders back and looked the man in the eye. Orion Black was broad-shouldered and handsome, with dark hair streaked with grey and a finely trimmed beard. His eyes were very similar to Sirius's.

"You are still a Gryffindor?" It was more a statement than a question, but he paused as if waiting for an answer.

"Yes."

"Yes, _sir_."

"Yes, sir."

"You never requested to be re-sorted into Slytherin?"

"No."

 _"No, sir."_

"No, sir."

"Despite our specific instructions to do so."

Sirius remained silent at this, trying not to think of what was coming.

"You are an embarrassment to your mother and me and to the name of Black. You have deliberately disobeyed our instructions and have turned your back on the great traditions of this family. You have spent your year making friends with Mudbloods and blood traitors, cavorting around the school doing Merlin knows what, getting letters sent home every other week." He paused. The iciness in his voice sent a shiver down Sirius's spine.

"You will spend your summer in this room, thinking of all you have done to bring shame on this family. And you will be punished for it." He pulled out his wand – a wand Sirius knew all too well – and hissed, _"Acerbio_. _"_ At once, a long blue flame, shaped like a lash, emerged from the tip of the wand.

Sirius was unable to lie on his back for a week.

Luckily, Orion Black wasn't around Grimmauld Place much that summer, so his visits to Sirius's room were few and far between. Sirius didn't much care why his father was absent so frequently; anything that kept his wand at a distance was good enough for Sirius. The one thing that Sirius had been looking forward to that summer was being able to see his little brother, Regulus. Regulus, however, was under strict instructions from their mother that he should have as little to do with his brother as possible. Sirius supposed she thought that his Gryffindor ways might rub off on the youngest Black. They were forbidden to speak at mealtimes, which was generally the only time they were in the same room.

Two weeks before the start of term found Sirius lying on his bed, staring up at the hideous green and silver canopy above him. He was trying to remember a spell that would allow him to change the coloring to red and gold, just to annoy his mother, when a sharp tapping at his window brought him out of his reverie. James's owl Ari was perched on the sill outside, a letter grasped in his talons. Sirius jumped up to let him in at once, ripping open the envelope as fast as he could.

 _"Hi Sirius,_

 _Hope you're okay. Remus and Peter are here for the week. They say hi. It's not the same without you...I wish your mum had let you come."_

Sirius tried not to feel too jealous. When the Potters' letter had arrived the previous week, asking permission for Sirius to come and visit, his mother had laughed aloud and asked him why she should allow him to do anything remotely fun. He was being punished, after all.

" _We've been practicing that Tripping Jinx we talked about. Remus is scared we'll get expelled for doing magic outside of school, can you imagine? As if the Ministry can really tell that we're the ones doing magic and not my parents. Peter's parents actually took his wand away at the beginning of the summer, to keep him from getting in trouble. Absolute nutters. How are we supposed to practice all of the hexes and jinxes we want to use on Snivelly next year if we can't do magic? We just have to be careful not to do any when my parents are nearby, is all._

 _The three of us will be going to Diagon Alley on Wednesday to get our things for next year. You should try to make it. Dad even said we'd be allowed to go round by ourselves this year. Maybe there'll be some Slytherins there to practice that Tripping Jinx on. There's a new Cleansweep out, too. I'm going to try and convince Dad to let me get it. My Shooting Star is going to look outdated, and that just won't do when I make the Quidditch team this year._

 _Anyway, have to run. Remus wants to walk up to the village...says he wants to check out the Muggle bookshop. Really. Do you remember why we are friends with him again? A_ bookshop _. Mental, I tell you._

 _Hope to see you in Diagon Alley,_

 _James_ "

Sirius sighed and folded up the letter, hiding it in his wardrobe with the rest of the letters his friends had sent him that summer. He would do anything to be able to meet James in Diagon Alley in a few days' time. The problem would be convincing his mother to allow him to go. If she knew it was something he wanted to do, she would laugh in his face again. The sound of light footsteps in the corridor alerted him to Regulus crossing the landing and into his own room. This gave Sirius an idea. Jumping up, he stuck his head out the door to ensure the coast was clear, and then hurried out onto the landing. The door to his brother's room was open, so Sirius walked right in.

Regulus's room was very much like Sirius's – filled with ornate furniture and Slytherin green. Regulus was standing in the middle of it, clutching the latest issue of _The Adventures of Dino Danger_ , and looking at Sirius exasperatedly.

"You know, you could have knocked."

"The door was open," Sirius shrugged.

"What do you want then? If Mother catches you in here…"

"Oh, give it a rest," said Sirius, closing the bedroom door and plopping down on his brother's bed. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Okay…" Regulus said, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Sirius nodded at the comic in his brother's hand. "Is it a good one then? You gonna tell me what happens?"

"I only just got it, I haven't read it yet." Regulus hugged the comic against his chest as though embarrassed by it. "And I thought you thought _Dino_ was stupid. That's what you said last summer anyhow."

Sirius shrugged again. "He's not too bad of a bloke, that Dino, but it seems like he should just _Avada Kedavra_ that Silver Sorcerer nutter and get on with it already."

Regulus gasped and shook his head fervently. "No no! Dino doesn't kill people, Sirius, he's the _good guy_."

"It's a shame. That Sorcerer sure does cock up most of his plans, doesn't he? Probably deserves a nice long stint in Azkaban at the very least." Regulus was still looking at him as though he were ludicrous for suggesting a comic book character murder someone. Sirius decided to steer the conversation more to his tactical advantage. "Anyway, there'll be loads of firsties at school who'll be better than me to talk about Dino with. Are you excited about Hogwarts?"

Regulus nodded but didn't say anything. Sirius pressed on.

"You'll love it, I know it. The castle's fabulous – tons of secret passageways, ghosts around every corner, Quidditch matches to watch every few weeks. I can even show you where the kitchens are. There's hundreds of house elves in there and they'll bring you whatever you're in the mood for. Treacle tart, toffee bars, chocolate eclairs – it's brilliant. And at mealtimes you can eat whatever you can get your hands on…nobody's there to tell you to eat the asparagus or the melon…"

Regulus's interest had been piqued, though, and he interrupted Sirius's rambling. "You'd show me where the kitchens are? Really?"

"Sure. I can show you it all. And lessons are pretty good too, except for History of Magic, but you can sleep through that, Binns doesn't notice. Have you got your robes and everything yet?"

"No," Regulus said. "Mother keeps saying she'll take me soon. I can't wait to get my wand."

Sirius pulled a face. "You don't want to be seen shopping with _Mother_ ," he said dramatically. "You'll be laughed at before even getting on the train. No one's who's anyone goes shopping with their parents."

This seemed to worry Regulus. "Really? How am I supposed to get all of my things then?"

Sirius tried not to grin as he brushed some imaginary dirt from the knee of his robes. Regulus was playing right into his hands. "I don't know, but you'd better hurry up. If you haven't even got your wand yet, you're way behind most first years. I got my wand at the beginning of the summer last year."

Regulus's frown became more and more pronounced as Sirius spoke. At length, though, some sort of epiphany seemed to brighten his young face, and it was just the epiphany Sirius had been aiming for.

"Could _you_ take me to Diagon Alley?"

Sirius sighed heavily. "I'm quite busy, actually. Lots to do. Well, maybe I could take you on Wednesday, but you'd have to convince Mother. Only I don't know if she'd be very keen on the idea."

"I'll tell her," said Regulus. "I'll make something up, if I have to. She'll listen to me. She never says no, not if I really want something."

Sirius fought not to gag.

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Sirius found himself, not daring to believe his own brilliant luck, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor with Regulus. He had no idea what his little brother had said in order to get his mother to let them out together. Perhaps Regulus was smarter than Sirius gave him credit for. They had been to the apothecary and the bookshop already, but Sirius suggested they take a break and get some ice cream. He was feeling very pleased with himself for finding a way to slip out from his mother's glares, even if just for the day. He looked around the street, hoping to spot James, Remus, or Peter; instead, his eyes locked on Gin Leigh and Ev Linney, who were standing outside of the Magical Menagerie.

"I'll be right back," Sirius said, rising quickly from the table.

"Where are you going?" asked Regulus, a note of panic in his voice. "Mother said I wasn't allowed on my own!"

Sirius just laughed and started to cross the street, pausing to chuck his empty ice cream cup in the rubbish bin. "I'll be back in two minutes. Just eat your ice cream."

The girls were apparently discussing what kind of animal Ev should buy.

"Oh, but look at the Puffskeins," Ev was saying. "They're so cute!"

"They don't _do_ anything, though. They just sit there like blobs."

"That's not true, they like to cuddle!"

Gin shook her head. Her loose blonde curls had become significantly lighter in the summer sun. "What about an owl, Ev? They do loads of stuff. _Practical_ stuff."

"I don't have enough money for an owl, though."

"That's okay," said Gin. "How about a cat, then?"

"A cat, Gin?" Sirius cut in. Both girls jumped visibly and turned to look at him. "I thought you had better taste than that. Who wants a cat?"

"Hi Sirius!" Ev said. "How was your summer?"

"Excellent," he lied easily. "All right, Ev?"

Gin didn't let her answer though. "Who asked you anyway, Sirius? I happen to like cats."

Sirius shrugged and grinned at her. "Suit yourself. I'm not a cat person, myself."

"Hm, no surprise there. You're more of a toad person, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm more of a –" Sirius cut off when he caught sight of James, Remus, and Peter walking up the street. "See you girls later!" he said, taking off after his friends without a glance back. "Oi! James!" The three of them turned and grinned when they saw who had called to them.

"Sirius!" James said. "You made it!"

"We thought you might not be able to come," Remus said.

"I escaped for the day," Sirius told them, thrilled to be in the presence of his friends once more. "Come on, I want you to meet my brother."

The four boys ambled over to Florean Fortescue's, where Regulus was still sitting, watching them approach curiously.

"James, Peter, Remus," Sirius said, "this is my brother Regulus. He's starting at Hogwarts next week. Reg, these are some friends."

They all said hello pleasantly.

"Come to get your books and everything for first year?" Remus asked him.

Regulus nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"Brilliant," said James. "Come on, Sirius, let's go into Quality Quidditch Supplies. I've got to check out that new Cleansweep."

"Sirius," Regulus said, "I still have to go get my wand and my robes."

"Right," said Sirius, looking down the street toward the Quidditch shop. "Well you can go into Ollivander's while we're in Quality Quidditch Supplies. They're just next door to each other."

The boys began walking down the street, Regulus trailing after them.

"But you're not going to come in with me?"

Sirius rolled his eyes back at his brother. "You're _eleven_ now, Reg. I think you can manage by yourself. We won't be far."

The boys dropped Regulus off at Ollivander's and headed next door, where a large group of people was ogling the new Cleansweep in the window.

"Dad said I couldn't get a new broom yet," James said, looking longingly at the shiny broomstick. "He said I have a perfectly good broom at home, but that if I make the Quidditch team this year, maybe they'll get it for me for Christmas."

"You have about ten perfectly good brooms at home, James, what are you on about?" Sirius said.

"Yes, but the best one is the Shooting Star and that's laughable compared to this new Cleansweep."

Sirius met Peter and Remus's eyes and forced himself not to laugh. The boys spent close to an hour in the shop, perusing the hundreds of different brooms and sniggering at James's exaggerated reactions. When Regulus appeared after a while, he was brandishing a long rectangular box with glee.

"Eleven and a half inches!" he told Sirius. "Unicorn hair and hazel. Mr. Ollivander seemed impressed!"

"Of course he was impressed," Sirius said. "He made it. Sure likes to pat himself on the back, that Ollivander."

"He's a bit creepy, isn't he? Isn't he Sirius?"

"Barmy, more like," said Sirius, but Regulus had just spotted the new Cleansweep and was no longer listening to him.

 _"Whoa,"_ Regulus said, pushing through the crowd to get closer to the broomstick. He and James now stood shoulder to shoulder, admiring the display before them.

"A beauty, isn't it?" said James, his eyes misty. "Zero to eighty in four seconds. Precision turning, fine holly bristles to negate the tailwind, no tremble at all on a steep dive…"

It was another fifteen minutes before they pulled James and Regulus away from the magnetic power of the Cleansweep and back out onto the sunny street.

"Just came out last month!" Regulus was telling Sirius. "And, you know, it's only about 100 Galleons more than the latest in the Comet line, I wonder if Mother…"

"You're not allowed a broomstick first year," Sirius reminded his brother. "And by the time you're allowed one next year, there'll probably be a new model out."

"All the same," Regulus said, "I think my best bet is to convince Mother…there's no way Father would go for…"

Sirius, though, was not paying attention to his brother. He had just spotted Severus Snape sitting alone at a table outside of Flourish and Blotts. He appeared to be quite absorbed in a heavy-looking book, his greasy hair curtaining his eyes as he leaned over it. Sirius nudged James and nodded in Snape's direction. James grinned.

"Go on to Madam Malkin's, Regulus," Sirius instructed, not taking his eyes off of Snape. "We'll meet you in an hour at Gambol and Japes."

"Oh. Well…okay," said Regulus.

"Er, Sirius," Remus said, watching Regulus make his way into the robe shop, "do you think he's all right being all alone?"

"He's fine. Come on, let's go mess with Snape."

"Wait," Remus said, as they crept closer to Snape's hunched-over form, "we're not supposed to do magic outside of school! It's one thing to do it at your house, James, but we're in broad daylight! We could be expelled!"

"Lighten up, Remus," said James, and Remus shrank back almost instinctively. "We're just going to have a little fun. No one needs to know."

The boys hurried over to an alley across the street from the bookshop. From there, they were hidden in the shadows of the buildings, but they still had a good angle from which to see Snape.

"What are you going to do?" whispered Peter. "Are you going to do that Tripping Jinx we've been practicing?"

"A Tripping Jinx? He's sitting down, Peter. Don't be thick."

Remus still wasn't convinced. "I really don't think we should –"

"I've been practicing a good one on our house elf Kreacher," Sirius interrupted. "Let me try it out."

James nodded and Remus sighed, resigned. Taking out his wand and pointing it at Snape, Sirius muttered, _"Canero."_ Immediately, a bellowing croak like that of a monstrous bullfrog erupted from Snape's mouth. Several passersby stopped and stared at him. Snape turned a blotchy red and looked around in confusion. From behind the cover of the shadow, Sirius flicked his wand again. Snape croaked. After a few more times, one of the Flourish and Blotts workers emerged from the shop and approached Snape hesitantly, as if worried the boy in question possessed some sort of contagion.

"Are you quite okay, young man?'

Sirius flicked his wand once more and Snape croaked loudly in response. In the alleyway, the boys were practically doubled up in laughter. Even Remus was chuckling appreciatively, shaking his head in an exasperated sort of way. It felt good to laugh, Sirius thought. He couldn't remember even smiling all summer.

Snape stood up and started collecting his things. He was looking around apprehensively, his face still red in embarrassment.

"Come on," Sirius said, stashing his wand out of sight and making his way back across the street toward the bookshop.

"All right there, Snivellus?" James said, once they were close to him. Snape wheeled around and glared at him, his hand twitching as if to grab his wand.

"I'll get you, Potter," he said lowly. "You're not allowed to do magic outside of school. They'll expel you for this."

"For what? What's he on about, Sirius?"

"No idea. It's hard for me to pay attention when he's making idle threats."

"You really should lighten up a bit, Snivelly."

"Yes," Sirius added, "maybe your nose'd look smaller if you weren't grimacing like a troll all the time."

James snorted in laughter. From behind him, Sirius could hear Peter giggling like mad.

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" Snape said, his teeth slightly bared. "Well I'll be the one laughing when I catch you at one of your games. I'll be laughing when they expel you."

"There you go making idle threats again. Pity you can't back them up."

"Shut up, Potter," Snape snarled. Sirius noticed his eyes were bugging out of his head in a rather amusing sort of way. "I'll catch you. All of you, playing your jokes all of the time, sneaking out every other week, marauding round the school like you own the place…"

"Oooh, 'marauding' are we? Good word, Snivellus. How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

"How long did it take you to get that Croaking Charm down, Black? Been working on it every day? Spent your whole summer practicing that one pathetic little spell, did you?"

"No idea what you're talking about," said Sirius lightly. "Anyway, it's been horrible chatting with you as always Snivelly, but we must be on our way. Don't want anyone to see us keeping this sort of company, you understand."

And with that, the four boys made their way back down the high street, three of the four laughing heartily. It was only when they had stopped outside of Gambol and Japes that James stopped chuckling, an excited look in his eye.

"Marauding!" he said suddenly. They all stared at him. "The Marauders! That's what we should call ourselves!"

"We need a name for ourselves now?" Remus asked, amused.

"Of course we need a name for ourselves. We're the best, most talented, and cleverest wizards to come through Hogwarts since Dumbledore himself. The Marauders! We'll be _legends_!"

"I like it!" said Peter, which was unsurprising – he liked everything James suggested. James, though, turned to his best friend for affirmation.

Sirius grinned. "The Marauders. Has a nice ring to it. Remind me to thank old Snivelly the next time I see him."

* * *

When Sirius, Regulus, and Walburga Black arrived at platform nine and three-quarters the following week, it was to an almost empty platform. For some unknown reason, Sirius's mother insisted that they get there at least an hour before the train was scheduled to depart. Sirius didn't mind in the least – it was one fewer hour that he had to spend in Grimmauld Place.

"Filth," Walburga spat as the three of them made their way through the barrier. "Every year we have to wade through Muggle filth just to get to the platform. Do you see the clothes they wear? They have no shame."

Sirius ignored her. He was used to his parents' complaints whenever they had to go near Muggles. He looked around at the handful of students who were now milling about the platform, trying to find someone he felt like greeting.

"Now, Regulus, dear," his mother was saying, "come this way. I've arranged for you to meet up with some other first years before boarding the train. Yes, there are the Notts now…"

And without a glance or word of farewell to her older son, she steered Regulus down the platform toward a small, sullen-looking family. Sirius grinned and pulled his trunk toward the train. He knew that she would not pay him any more attention while there were other people around to impress. He was free.

Considering there were only a few students already on the train, Sirius had his pick of compartments. He decided on the very last compartment in the very last train car, as it was the one farthest from the direction his mother had walked. After finally maneuvering his trunk up into the luggage rack, he sat down and looked out the window. Up the platform a ways, Regulus was now talking to the Nott boy, who he and Sirius had met on several occasions. Sirius frowned. He had never much cared for the Notts, perhaps because his mother approved of them so wholeheartedly. Robert Nott had a mean look about him, and had absolutely no sense of humor that Sirius had ever detected. He was about the dullest boy Sirius had ever met.

He had been watching them for several minutes when the door to his compartment banged open. Sirius looked up and felt his stomach flip over. In the doorway stood Didina Murphy, a fourth-year Gryffindor and, in Sirius's opinion, the prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts. She looked startled to find him there.

"What are you doing in here, Black?"

Sirius swallowed and smiled at her in what he hoped was a charming manner.

"Free country, Murphy."

"Get out, will you, this is our compartment."

"Oh is there a name plaque on the door that I missed?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Everyone knows that my friends and I sit in this compartment every train ride. Now get out."

Sirius just smiled and propped his feet up on the seat in front of him. "Well you're welcome to join me."

She sighed and crossed her arms, but made no move to sit down. "Why are you here so early anyway?"

"Had to make sure I got the best compartment, didn't I?" he taunted.

"Sod off, Black."

"Well why are you here so early then?"

She shrugged. "My parents are Muggles. They always think it's going to take way longer than it actually does to get places. Don't ask me why."

Sirius was barely listening. He was too distracted by the way the Muggle shorts she was wearing only covered half of her thighs.

"Have a nice summer, then?" he asked when he realized she had stopped talking.

"Oh, come on, Sirius, I don't want to chat, I just want my compartment." She smiled at him. "Please?"

It was very tempting to let her have the compartment when she was smiling at him like that. He mentally shook himself and decided to hold his ground.

"No can do, Murphy. You snooze, you lose."

"Ugh, fine," she said, and with a flip of her long brown hair, she turned on her heel and disappeared down the corridor. Sirius was quite sorry to see her go.

He turned back to the window. The platform had become much more crowded in the last fifteen minutes. Straining his neck, he watched as Regulus, now surrounded by several other first years who his mother had apparently deemed acceptable, boarded the train. After a few minutes of watching the students on the platform, Sirius stood up to go find his brother. He had just made it to the next car up when the corridor was blocked by Adin Balini, who was helping a small girl lug her trunk into a compartment. Adin beamed when she saw him.

"Hey Sirius!" she said, nervously fixing her hair. "How are you?"

"Excellent," he said. "Here, let me help you with that trunk."

Sirius took the trunk handle from her and succeeded in stowing the trunk in the compartment next to the cage of a speckled owl, before turning back to the girls.

"Thanks a lot!" said Adin. "Oh, this is my sister Kaia. She's starting Hogwarts this year. Kaia, this is Sirius Black."

"Hello," Sirius said to the girl, who looked strikingly like her sister.

"Black?" she said, glancing confusedly at her sister. Sirius gritted his teeth at her reaction to his last name. Being locked in Grimmauld Place for two months had dulled his memory to the general perception of his family, but the reminder seemed to hit him full in the face at this moment.

"Yeah," he said, somewhat resigned.

"Oh," said Kaia, now looking very embarrassed. "Erm, well, thanks. For helping me with, er, with my trunk."

"Sure," he said, ready to get away from them. "See you later, then, Balini."

"Bye Sirius!"

He hurried up the train car, pushing past socializing students and peeking into the occupied compartments for a sign of his brother. Finally, several cars up, he found Regulus sitting with Robert Nott and a few other boys who Sirius didn't know by name. He slid open the door and stuck his head in.

"Hey, Reg," he said, ignoring the other occupants entirely, "I've got a compartment in the back. You should come sit with us."

Regulus fidgeted and didn't meet Sirius's eye.

"Er, well, I think I'll just stay up here, if that's –"

"Is this your brother, Regulus?" interrupted one of the other boys coldly. Sirius looked at him. He had hair like straw and black, beady eyes.

"Y-yes," said Regulus. "This is my brother Sirius. Sirius, this is Adrian Bole. And that's Darius Montague, and I don't know if you remember, Robert Nott…"

"Yeah, I've heard of him," said Bole. "Black, the Gryffindor blood-traitor."

It was less than a second before Sirius had his wand pointed in Bole's face.

"Say that again, you little toss-pot, I dare you."

"Sirius, stop!" cried Regulus, jumping up and pushing Sirius forcefully out of the compartment. Sirius stumbled backward, shocked. He lowered his wand and stared at his little brother.

"You're really going to sit up here with _them_?"

Regulus looked uncomfortable. "Well…well, yes. I mean…I l-like Robert, and Mother said I should try to make my own friends and –"

"Make the friends that she picked out for you, you mean?" snapped Sirius, anger pumping through him. How could Regulus possibly want to be friends with these boys?

Regulus was staring at his shoes. The train was becoming more crowded and people kept pushing past them as they stood in the corridor.

"Come on," said Sirius, losing patience and grabbing Regulus's arm to pull him down the narrow passage. "You should sit with us. We'll have a blast."

Regulus, however, wrenched his arm free from his brother's grasp and disappeared back into the compartment, slamming the door in Sirius's face. Sirius stared at it for a moment in disbelief before turning and stalking back down the train. He had made his way to the last train car when someone jumped on him from behind.

"There you are!" said James, as Sirius pushed him off and straightened his robes. "We've been looking for you!"

Peter was standing behind James, trunk in hand, grinning at them.

"Well you can't have been looking hard. I've been here for ages. My mum didn't want anyone to see me with her, you know how it is. Come on, I've got the last compartment down this way."

The three boys made their way down the car and into the compartment before stowing the two trunks and Ari's cage and flopping down into the seats.

"You seen Remus yet?" Sirius asked them.

"Nope," said James, "but he better get here soon. The train's set to leave in a few minutes. We saw Goomer and Raeanne, though. They're in the next car up."

"We saw Adin, too," Peter added. "She said you'd been by."

"Yeah, I saw her and met her little sister, who seemed horrified that Adin was on speaking terms with a Black."

"Ah, well," said James, digging in his pocket and throwing them both chocolate frogs, "she'll learn fast enough. Nobody underestimates the Marauders!"

"Hey, look!" said Peter, pointing out the window. "It's Remus!"

All three of them jumped up to get a good view. Remus was on the platform with his parents, who were giving him hugs goodbye. James opened the window and stuck his head out.

"Oi! Remus!"

Remus jumped, but broke into a broad smile when he saw James hanging out the window, Sirius and Peter behind him. He allowed his mother to give him one last kiss on the cheek before making his way to the last train car and hopping on board.

"Hi," he said after stowing his trunk and plopping on the seat next to James. Sirius noticed how ill Remus looked. He was paler than usual, had dark purple circles under his eyes, and a deep bruise shining on his temple.

James seemed to be noticing the same thing. He looked at Remus in concern. "You all right, mate?"

Remus grinned. "Never better."

"What'd you do to your head?" Sirius asked.

Remus's smile faltered a bit. "Oh, well, my dad and I went out a few days ago and played a bit of Quidditch. You know me...I'm not much of a flyer...had a bit of an accident with a tree."

As the train pulled away from the station, James jumped on the chance to talk about Quidditch. Sirius, though, continued to watch Remus, who seemed very relieved at the change of topic. The bruise struck Sirius as odd, both in the location of it on Remus's face and in the hasty way in which Remus had brushed the inquiry aside in conversation. Sirius did not know much about his friend's father, only that he was a pureblood wizard. He wondered if Remus – quiet, studious, kind Remus – had been on the receiving end of an angry wand, but then quickly dismissed the idea. Purebloods didn't leave evidence of their displeasure across their children's faces; such an act would be akin to airing their dirty robes on the front stoop for all the neighbors to see. Punishments were doled out behind closed doors, by spells specifically created to leave no lasting physical scars. Shivering slightly, Sirius tried to keep up with James and Peter's conversation. Apparently, the Chudley Cannons had just beaten Puddlemere United in league play, which was the biggest upset that James could remember, and, indeed, the Cannons' first victory in sixty-one straight matches. Discussion of it lasted for so long that the Hogwarts Express had long made its way out of London before talk turned to something else. Sirius lost interest after a while and stared out the window, his thoughts going back to Regulus.

Sirius and his brother had always got on as well as could be expected, considering their vastly different relationships with their parents. Where Sirius was defiant, Regulus leaned toward submissive. Sirius had been hoping that when Regulus came to Hogwarts, the youngest Black would realize that there was more to the world than Orion and Walburga Black's demented view of it. He was a kind child, inquisitive and talkative, and though these traits often served as irritants to his older brother, Regulus certainly did not fit in among the nasty, brash Slytherins. Regulus, Sirius supposed, would make an excellent Gryffindor, and then Sirius would no longer be the one odd Black. Maybe there was hope that people wouldn't point and whisper and act confused when they met him. Maybe the name 'Black' would no longer be synonymous with dark magic and pureblood ideals.

Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for Regulus – and hope for Sirius – yet.


	12. 2-2 or 'What do I Need Regulus For'

**Chapter 12 - 2.2 or "What Do I Need Regulus For, Anyway?"**

The Great Hall was adorned with its usual splendid decorations for the start of term feast when the students began pouring in, having just been delivered by the horseless carriages through a torrential downpour. Hundreds upon hundreds of candles floated above the house tables, flickering light off the golden plates and goblets that sat gleaming on the polished wood. The enchanted ceiling swirled with dark clouds and, every so often, lit up with flashes of violent lightning. Sirius followed Remus toward the Gryffindor table and, despite the loud cracks of thunder and the rain water that had snuck into his shoes, a sense of peace flowed through him.

He was home at last.

"Psst, Sirius," hissed James, prodding him in the back, "it's Snivellus."

Sirius turned and saw Snape making his way toward the end of the Slytherin table. Perhaps he had not been able to secure an umbrella from the carriages, as water dripped from his greasy hair and onto the wet shoulders of his black school robes. He looked rather miserable.

"What do you reckon?" James asked. "Try out that Tripping Jinx?"

Sirius glanced up at the staff table, but there were so many students walking about that there was no way the teachers would be able to spot them. He nodded. "Better make it quick, though. The sorting's about to start."

James pointed his wand at Snape and whispered, _"Gradius."_ Snape immediately tumbled forward, knocking several Slytherins down around him.

"Watch where you're going, Snape!" they heard Mulciber shout, brushing off his robes angrily.

James and Sirius barely had time to laugh at the situation before James tripped as well, sprawling to the ground most ungracefully. He looked around indignantly to find Lily Evans standing over him with her wand out, an unabashed smile on her face.

"Don't worry, Potter," she said loudly, "you'll learn to walk and talk at the same time…eventually." And with that, she strolled happily to the other end of the Gryffindor table and took a seat next to Adin Balini.

James jumped off the ground as the students around him laughed at Lily's gibe.

"What'd she do that for?" he asked his friends as they found seats at the table.

"Well what'd you trip Snape for?" asked Remus.

James stared at him, his mouth gaping open comically.

"Because – because it's _Snape_!" he sputtered. "And I've been wanting to try that Tripping Jinx out for ages now…"

"Maybe Lily's been practicing it this summer too!" suggested Peter.

James frowned, looking very put out indeed. Sirius had more important things to worry about, though. Professor McGonagall had just entered the Great Hall, leading the line of first years toward the Sorting Hat. Craning his neck, Sirius was able to spot Regulus, standing nervously next to the boys he had ridden the train with. The Sorting Hat broke into song, but Sirius barely paid attention; he was almost more nervous than he had been last year at his own sorting. The stirrings of hope that he had unearthed on the train ride once again pulled at him. He could see it – Regulus being sorted into Gryffindor, Regulus and Sirius together starting the new Black legacy, his parents realizing that Gryffindor was not an abomination and accepting the deviating path for both of their sons…

The hat finished its song to loud applause from the crowd. Underneath the table, Sirius crossed all of his fingers.

"Balini, Kaia!"

Adin's younger sister made her way to the front of the line and put on the hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed. The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers as Kaia, looking immensely relieved, hurried over to sit with Adin and Lily.

"Black, Regulus!"

It seemed to take an eternity, Sirius thought, for Regulus to make his way to the front. Sirius held his breath when his little brother disappeared under the hat, which was much too big for his head. He heard Peter whisper something to Remus, felt James shift on the bench beside him, but Sirius paid them no attention. He stared at Regulus hard, hoping, willing the hat to place him in Gryffindor…

"SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius let out the breath he had been holding with a whoosh. It felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. He watched as Regulus walked over to the Slytherin table and sat next to Marshall Avery and Evan Rosier, watched as they patted him on the back, clapped and cheered for him, watched as Avery looked up, his eyes meeting Sirius's in a look that indicated a sort of vindictive triumph…

"Are you okay, Sirius?" James whispered, as "Crowe, Rebecca" became the first new Hufflepuff.

Sirius swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away from the sickening scene at the Slytherin table to look at his friends, who were all staring back at him anxiously. He tried to smile at them, to brush it off with the same air of nonchalance that he had perfected the previous year, but it felt strained and unnatural.

"Of course," he said in a funny voice. "Why wouldn't I be? Everyone expected it, really. My parents will sure be pleased."

None of them spoke for the rest of the sorting. When the food appeared on the golden platters and the rest of the students dug in voraciously, Sirius merely picked at his dinner. His stomach churned queasily and he suddenly had no appetite. Throughout the feast, so intent was he in his disappointment, that he barely even listened to the conversations taking place around him.

"Who's that up at the staff table, next to Slughorn?" Peter asked as the pudding was cleared away. Sirius looked up from the glass of pumpkin juice he had been staring into. A small man with big ears and thick glasses was indeed sitting next to Professor Slughorn, eating his trifle with enthusiastic vigor.

"I don't know," said Remus, his eyes traveling down the table. "He must be new. Who's missing?"

"Wait a minute," James said, standing to get a better view of the professors. "Where's old Cyclops?"

"Yeah, you're right, Eldon's missing!"

Newlyn Gallit, a sixth-year prefect who was sitting on the other side of James, had overheard their conversation and turned toward them.

"You didn't hear?" he said, trying to contain a laugh. "Eldon resigned. She and Pringle ran off together!"

"You're joking!"

"I'm not!" said Newlyn, letting out a chuckle. "They both turned in their resignations to Dumbledore at the end of last term. Told him they were eloping! I heard it from Linus Merriweather, who got Head Boy this year."

"You mean Pringle's gone too?" asked Sirius, his interest finally piqued enough to warrant speaking. He and James had gotten on Pringle's bad side the year before and had spent countless hours in detention with him, sharpening the knives and screws in his office.

"Yep. They got some new bloke, but I haven't heard anything about him. I bet Dumbledore will say something when he gives his notices. He usually does."

"Linus Merriweather got Head Boy, then?" asked Remus thoughtfully. "Isn't he a Gryffindor too?"

Newlyn grinned and nodded. "You should have seen Malfoy in the prefects' meeting earlier today, he looked like he was going to spit nails. This is the second year in a row the Head Boy's been a Gryffindor, and Merriweather wasn't even a prefect last year, to really add insult to Malfoy's injury…"

"I thought the Heads were always prefects first," said Peter. "I thought that's how it worked."

Newlyn shrugged. "Dumbledore doesn't always follow the rules does he? Anyhow, I'm hoping that Merriweather doesn't hurt my chances at Head Boy next year, though the Slytherins might revolt if Dumbledore goes Gryffindor for the third year in a row." He paused and glanced up at the head table. "Oh look, here he goes now…"

The boys all turned and watched as Dumbledore rose from the staff table. At once, the chatter in the Great Hall died out, every head turned toward him expectantly. The only sounds were a low rumbling of thunder and the rain lashing against the castle's windows.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said, beaming around at them all. "Now that your stomachs are sufficiently stuffed and your eyelids are sufficiently heavy, I have a few announcements to make. First, all students are to remember that the forest on the grounds is strictly off-limits, hence its moniker, the Forbidden Forest. Secondly, I would like to introduce two new members of our staff. Mr. Argus Filch will be filling the role of caretaker, as Mr. Pringle has left us."

Dumbledore gestured to a pouchy looking man who stood at the end of the hall in a moldy tailcoat. A dust-colored cat circled his feet.

"Just think of all the fun we can have messing with him," James whispered to Sirius while the applause for Filch died down.

"Additionally, as Professor Eldon also left in search of, er, other pursuits," Dumbledore continued, the corners of his mouth twitching, "I am pleased to announce that Professor Philpott will be stepping in to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"He looks like a bit of an idiot, doesn't he?" said James. Sirius had to agree, seeing as how Professor Philpott was biting his fingernails and giggling nervously at the applause for him.

"Well, you have heard an old man's ramblings for long enough, then," said Dumbledore. "And you must be tip top for classes tomorrow, so off to bed you go."

The sound of the rain on the windows was at once drowned out by the noise of benches being pushed back as students clambered to their feet, chattering excitedly with their friends. Sirius followed James, Peter, and Remus as the slow swell of the crowd propelled them toward the door of the Great Hall. It was only just after they made their way into the entrance hall that they passed very close to Regulus, who was walking with Nott and Montague. He tried to get Sirius's attention, but Sirius pointedly ignored him.

"Don't worry, Black," said a cold voice from behind them. Turning, he found Avery, flanked by Wilkes and Mulciber, sneering at them. "We _Slytherins_ will take real good care of him. I daresay we will become the best of mates."

James and Remus grabbed either of Sirius's arms as he made to jump on Avery. The Slytherins, laughing, disappeared down the corridor leading to the dungeons.

"I'll kill him," Sirius growled to no one in particular.

"Don't listen to them," Remus said as they started up the marble staircase. "They're just trying to get a rise out of you."

Sirius did not give any indication that he had heard Remus, and, indeed, the blood was thundering so loudly in his ears that it was surprising that he could hear anything else.

"How about Eldon and Pringle running off together, eh?" said James after a minute, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"Old Pringle must have a think for cyclopses," said Peter, laughing.

"Or maybe Eldon has a thing for chains and screws," James said.

"Eurgh!"

"Gross!"

Sirius walked silently, following his friends up to Gryffindor Tower. Why was he surprised, really? It had been delusional to think that Regulus would be sorted anywhere other than Slytherin. Regulus had always been the good son…had never shown any desire to go against his family or to think for himself. But now he was stuck with all of those nasty purebloods, with Snape and Avery and Mulciber and all the other boys whom Sirius loathed so viciously. For a few hours, a few glorious hours, Sirius had allowed himself to believe that maybe there was a chance that he wouldn't be alone anymore…

Before Sirius realized it, he was climbing through the portrait hole and directly up the stairs to the second-year boys' dormitory. The others were all talking happily, changing out of their robes and getting ready for bed, but Sirius didn't feel remotely tired. He knew that attempting to sleep anytime soon would be worthless – he was simply too angry. Angry at Regulus, at his family, at the Slytherins, and angry at himself for caring.

The Sorting Hat's bellow rang through his head, mingling with the words of his mother and father, his cousins, the Slytherins…

 _"SLYTHERIN!"_

 _"You are an embarrassment to your mother and me and to the name of Black."_

A rage unlike any he could remember broke through him, boiling in the pit of his stomach like hot lava. He kept seeing Regulus with the hat on…running over to the applauding Slytherin table…Avery's sneering face…his mother's voice…his father's wand…

 _"We Slytherins will take real good care of him. I daresay we will become the best of mates."_

 _"She told me to tell you to not bother coming home for Christmas or Easter, because she can't stomach having a blood traitor in her house."_

Before he knew what he was doing, before he even considered the fact that there were four other boys in the room to witness his rage, he started punching the first thing he saw – the stone wall of the dormitory.

 _"Is this your brother, Regulus?"_

 _"Black, the Gryffindor blood-traitor."_

He could hear the others' shocked yells from behind him, but he kept punching. His hand was aching, bloody, throbbing, but something inside of him seemed to have snapped and he couldn't bring himself to stop hitting the wall.

 _"How dare you think you can usurp generations of honor with your selfish, insubordinate ways?"_

 _"SLYTHERIN!"_

Someone was restraining him now, pulling him backward, away from the bloody spot on the stone that his fist had made. After a few seconds of fruitlessly struggling to get away, he gave up. Turning, he saw that it had been James who had pulled him off the wall. Remus, Peter, and Goomer were standing around the dormitory, staring at him with varying degrees of shock and incredulity on their frozen faces.

"What the hell?" said James, panting slightly from the exertion of restraining his friend.

The rage seemed to be seeping out of Sirius. He looked around at his roommates and felt shame take over. He slid to the ground, his back against the wall, and didn't meet any of their eyes. Embarrassment coursed through him and, on top of that, his hand really hurt.

"What. The. Hell." James repeated.

"Sorry," Sirius said weakly. "Sorry…" Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. After a minute, Sirius looked up at James and said, almost pleadingly, "It's my little brother, James."

James exhaled slowly and sat down on Sirius's bed.

"Yeah, I know, but..." he said, fading off and gesturing to the bloody wall.

"He's in Slytherin!"

"It's gonna be okay, mate."

"No, it's not," said Sirius, staring down at his bloody, bruised hand. "He's in there with Avery and Mulciber and bleeding Snape. I just thought...I just hoped that maybe...I mean..."

He trailed off, suddenly aware of the fact that everyone was watching him. He rose quickly from the floor, wanting nothing more than to get out of that dormitory and away from them.

"I just want to be alone," he muttered, striding to the door and throwing it open. James made to follow him. "No, really. Just…just leave me alone." And with that, he hurried down the stairs, leaving the four boys in the dormitory staring open-mouthed at each other in his wake.

Sirius didn't know how long he spent wandering the corridors of the castle. He knew he shouldn't have been out that late and that if he got caught, it'd be at least a week's worth of detentions, but he could not seem to care. There were a few close calls where he almost ran into professors or Peeves the Poltergeist, but he was always able to slip away through the many secret passageways they had found the previous year. He walked for what seemed like hours, trying to allow for the rage, disappointment, embarrassment, and infuriating sadness to flow out of him. Half of him longed to run into a Slytherin, to give his fist a more agreeable target than the stone wall, but he saw no other students except a pair of patrolling Ravenclaw prefects. Sometime in the night, he realized his feet were freezing, so he made his way back up to the Gryffindor common room, where he sat by the fire, staring into the flames.

This was where Lily Evans found him when she got up at dawn to send a letter to her parents.

"Black?"

He might have been sleeping, though it was difficult to say. He started at her address as if it had been gunfire and looked at her where she was standing at the bottom of the girls' staircase.

"Oh," he said dully, scrubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and turning back toward the fire. "Hey Evans."

He looked terrible. He had dark circles under his eyes and was now staring into the fire as though not really seeing it at all.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Fantastic," he said in the same dull tone.

She hesitated before crossing the room and sitting down on the couch next to him. He did not move, or even acknowledge her at all.

"Have you been here all night?" He shrugged but said nothing. Looking down, she noticed that one of his hands was bloody and battered, the skin at the knuckles torn and bruised. "Sirius!" she gasped. "What happened to your hand?"

He glanced down at it, as if not remembering it was there at all. "Oh," he said. "I punched a wall."

"You punched a wall?"

"Several times, actually."

"Well that was a clever thing to do."

At this, he looked at her briefly and then started laughing, but it was a strange laugh, hollow and humorless. His grey eyes were dark and didn't have the twinkle of mischief they usually had. She stared at him. In the distance, she heard a low, extended rumble of thunder and reconsidered her errand to the drafty Owlery.

"Why did you punch a wall several times?"

He stopped laughing, but did not answer. She hesitated, not knowing him well enough to know if she should press him, but she was never very good at biting her tongue.

"Was it because of your brother? Because of his sorting?"

He didn't respond, but pressed his lips together in a thin line. Lily figured this was as good of a confirmation as she was going to get from him. Sighing, she tucked the letter for her parents into her pocket and leaned back on the sofa, sitting next to him in silence for several minutes, both of them staring into the fire.

"I suppose you don't know about my sister, do you?" she asked, knowing that of course he didn't know about Petunia, but allowing him a chance to respond anyway. Sirius looked up at her, clearly surprised by the question.

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Yep," Lily nodded. She turned her body to face him now, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, pulling her feet up underneath her and hugging her knees to her chest. "Petunia. She's two years older than me."

"She's a Muggle?"

"Yes. I'm the only witch in my family, as far as I know." Lily paused, her throat tightening at the thought of Petunia. Severus, of course, knew these details, and Lily had given a brief overview of hers and Petunia's relationship to some of her other friends, but it still felt odd, to open up to Sirius Black about something so personal and painful to her.

"She and I were best friends. My whole life, we did everything together. Even though she's older, she's kind of, er…shy…I guess, so she always hung round with me and my mates in school. At least, she did until I found out that I was a witch."

It was difficult, telling him this, but it was the only way she could think of to make him feel better. And as she spoke, she thought of the little she knew about Sirius Black and his family, and she considered for the first time that perhaps they were not so different after all.

"She's scared of magic, I thought. She started to _hate_ me. Avoiding me all she could…never talking to me anymore, but when she did talk to me, she would just yell at me for no reason. She stopped enjoying the things she used to enjoy, like playing on the swings, or building forts out of the bedding… Anyway, then I found out that she had written to Professor Dumbledore, asking if she could come to Hogwarts too. He wrote her back a very nice letter, but she's not a witch. There was no way she'd be able to come to Hogwarts."

"I didn't know Muggles could write to Hogwarts," said Sirius, and Lily almost rolled her eyes that _this_ was the detail that he picked up on.

"I don't know how she did it, she won't tell me," continued Lily. "The last time she spoke to me – I mean, really spoke to me – was on the platform at King's Cross, before first year. She called me a freak."

" _She_ called _you_ a freak?"

"Yes. And she hasn't spoken to me since."

Sirius stared at her. "Well that's rubbish."

"It's hard," Lily said, breaking his gaze to pick idly at a loose string on her sleeve, "to be different from your family."

They were quiet for several long moments before Lily looked back up to find him still staring at her.

He swallowed heavily before speaking. "I know that I'm being stupid, but I thought there really might have been a chance that he would be Gryffindor too."

She nodded, understanding. "Are you and your brother close?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes he annoys me to no end, though. I mean, he always wanted to do whatever my parents told him to do. But I thought that maybe once he got to Hogwarts, that would change."

"It might still. Change, I mean."

"Yeah, right. Now he's in Slytherin with all the pureblood dark arts fanatics and I'm sure my parents are over the moon about it."

"But why is it so horrible that he's in Slytherin?"

"Because…because it's _Slytherin_."

This conversation was beginning to give Lily flashbacks to similar conversations she and Severus had had after their divisive sorting the year before. The truth was that the animosity between the two houses had certainly caused a rift in their friendship, but nothing that couldn't be salvaged.

It was of Severus she was thinking when she said, "They're not all bad, you know."

Sirius scoffed. "I've known a lot more Slytherins than you, Evans. My entire bloody family has been in Slytherin."

"And they're all so terrible?"

"Well," Sirius started, his brow lowered in concentration, "maybe not all of them. My Uncle Alphard is okay, but he's not around much…he travels a lot. And I get on with my cousin Andromeda pretty well…She finished Hogwarts last year."

It was worse than Lily had expected. She, at least, only had the one strained familial relationship. Sirius, on the other hand, had no one but a distant uncle and a decent cousin.

"Well there you go," she said with overcompensating cheerfulness. "Maybe Regulus will be the same as them."

Sirius shook his head, but remained quiet for a while. "Doesn't it make you sad, though," he said, "that your sister thinks you're a freak? That she can't be at Hogwarts here with you?"

Lily considered how to answer this. The truth was that at times, the figurative loss of Petunia seemed to consume her. At others, she would go days without thinking of her sister.

"Yes," she told him. "Yes, of course it would be nice if she were here with me. Sometimes it just seems too difficult, being here all alone. And there have been moments when I even…" She felt herself reddening, not sure why she was even telling him this, but knowing instinctively that it was the right thing to say. "…When I even wish that I _weren't_ a witch, because it w-would make things easier, and I'd have my sister back. If I were like the rest of my family, maybe things wouldn't be so…hard."

She did not look at him, and when he remained silent, she continued, her voice stronger. "But here's the thing…I _am_ a witch, and I'm here at Hogwarts, and it's really, really _brilliant_ here, isn't it? And even though I'm not with my family, and even though things with Petunia are hard, I belong here. This is who I really am. I'm surrounded by friends here who I adore and who don't treat me like a freak. So I just try to be happy with what I have, because, on the whole, I think I have quite a lot."

Lily thought that he may have gotten the point. He was now staring into the fire again, but a bit of color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were no longer dark with rage and sadness, anyhow.

"Look," she said, "maybe it's not my place to say, but it seems to me like you have friends here in Gryffindor who don't care that you don't get on with your family. Regulus is in Slytherin, which is disappointing, but James and Remus and Peter are here with you. Are you closer with Regulus than you are with them?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Do you laugh with Regulus like you laugh with them?"

"No."

"Do you and Regulus annoy the living daylights out of everyone who is near you like you do with them?"

Sirius actually cracked a smile. "No."

"So maybe you and Regulus will be fine, even though he's in Slytherin. But for now, it seems like you've got quite a lot right here in Gryffindor."

"You're right," he said, genuinely smiling at her. "Thanks Evans."

Feeling as if prolonging the moment would make it more awkward, Lily unfolded her limbs and stood up, stretching her cramped muscles. Through the tall windows she could see a lightening sky, though the grey rain obscured any sight of a sunrise. Shuffling noises from above meant that students would be making their ways toward breakfast before long.

"Do you always get up at the crack of dawn, or what?" asked Sirius lightly.

Lily shrugged. "Usually."

Sirius shook his head and laughed. "Mental."

"Oh? _I'm_ the mental one? Says the boy who punched a wall?"

Sirius flexed his bruised hand and winced. "Right. I guess that was a bit thick of me."

Lily snorted. "Only thing thicker would've been slamming your head against it. You should go see Madam Pomfrey, though. It looks like it might be broken."

"Yeah, I reckon you're right," said Sirius, standing up.

"I'll walk with you down to the hospital wing. I was planning on going to the Owlery before breakfast, but I think I'll wait until break and hope the weather clears up."

The two made their way out of the portrait hole and through the empty corridors.

"I'd like to see the look on Pomfrey's face when you show her that hand," Lily said as they passed the Charms classroom. "She'll think you've been fighting like a Muggle."

"In my experience," said Sirius, "Pomfrey never asks too many questions, bless her."

Lily gave him a look and fought back a smile. "So you're not going to tell her that you decided to have a boxing match with one of the thousand-year-old stone walls in the castle?"

"Nah, because then I'd have to admit that the stone wall won." Sirius was smiling broadly, but it faltered as they stopped outside of the hospital wing.

"Look," he said seriously, "you're right. I hadn't ever thought about it the way you said it up there…about…I mean, if I weren't in Gryffindor, I wouldn't have James and Remus and Peter, right? So, if nothing else, I can just…hold onto that, yeah?"

Lily surveyed him for a moment, smiling slightly. "I'm glad you're a Gryffindor, Sirius."

"And I'm glad you're a witch, Evans. Though I'd be gladder if you'd let me copy your Potions homework from time to time…"

She laughed and turned to leave him there, but his voice stopped her.

"Will you do me a favor?"

She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Haven't I done enough for you today?"

"Just don't mention this to anyone, all right?" He shrugged. "You know, about me being…upset about my brother. I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

She could not contain her derisive snort. "If you say so. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks, Evans."

"See you later, Black."

And with that, Lily walked toward the Great Hall, hungry for breakfast and thinking that if this morning were any indication, it was going to be a very long year.

* * *

It was with great worry that James, Remus, and Peter entered the Great Hall a while later, eyes darting around for any sign of Sirius. James had waited up in the dormitory for hours the previous night, but Sirius hadn't returned and his bed looked as if it hadn't been slept in. None of them had spoken about the night before – quite honestly, none of them knew what to say. They had never seen Sirius's temper in full swing before. It was concerning, to say the least. And, aside from that, James felt guilty for not having given Regulus Black's sorting a second thought before it happened. He, like most everyone, had simply assumed that Regulus would be made a Slytherin. Why Sirius had thought differently – and why it had upset him so thoroughly – was a bit of a mystery to James.

"There he is," said Peter, pointing to the end of the Gryffindor table, where Sirius sat, talking animatedly to Davey Gudgeon, a third year. "I told you he probably just came down early to get breakfast."

James didn't think this was the case, since Sirius had never gotten up early and descended to the Great Hall for breakfast by himself before. They made their way over to him and Sirius grinned when he spotted them.

"Morning," he said brightly. "Davey was just telling me about a new tournament bracket he's drafted up, to see who can get closest to the Whomping Willow. I told him to put us down to play."

Taken aback, James surveyed his friend. He had expected Sirius to be angry, brooding, and perhaps a bit embarrassed about his outburst from the night before, but the Sirius he was looking at now seemed happier than ever, albeit a tad tired.

"The Willow?" Remus repeated, his voice cracking a bit.

"Yeah, you know that old flailing tree down near the edge of the forest?"

"N-no…I mean, yeah, of course I know where it is," Remus stuttered. "Only, I don't think people should be trying to get near it. It's r-really dangerous…"

"Oh it's not too bad," said Davey. "We used to play all the time last year. Phillip Maloney won last year's tournament, but I think I can beat him now. I've a good idea where the tree's weak spots are…"

"James and I will play," affirmed Sirius.

"Great," said Davey, jotting down their names on his parchment. "That's thirteen names. I'm going to try to make it an even twenty. Oh, there's Maloney, I'd better go talk to him. See you lot later."

James watched Davey walk over to the Ravenclaw table before turning to Sirius, who was munching casually on some bacon.

"Are you –"

Sirius cut him off. "Listen. Sorry about last night. I lost it a bit. But I'm better now."

They all stared at him. It was clear to James that Sirius wanted the subject dropped.

"Your hand looks better," Remus said after a moment.

"Yeah." Sirius flexed his fingers. "I went to Pomfrey this morning. Felt like a bit of an idiot, but there you go. She fixed it in about five seconds, no sweat."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Remus asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm fine. What do I need Regulus for, anyway, when I've got the three of you?"

James remained skeptical, but shrugged and offered Sirius the serving bowl of strawberries. Sirius scoffed.

"Don't offer me any of that rubbish, I'm happy with my bacon, thank-you-very-much."

This was the affirmation James had been looking for. "Good thing."

"What's a good thing?"

"Just checking that your body wasn't invaded by some peppy, cheerful spirit last night when you didn't come up to the dorm. It's a good thing you didn't accept the fruit, or I'd know you weren't really you."

"Don't be a prat," Sirius laughed, cuffing James on the shoulder. "Oh, and I've an idea for a good way to mess with Snivelly…"

As the boys leaned their heads together conspiratorially, Sirius's voice shaking with mischievous excitement, James breathed a sigh of relief.

His best friend was back.


	13. 2-3 or 'First Philpott, Then Filch'

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Please review if you're able...the feedback always helps get me moving when I'm having trouble with inspiration. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 13 - 2.3 or "First Philpott, Then Filch"**

It did not take long for James Potter and Sirius Black to get back to the well-worn life of trouble they had cultivated for themselves during first year. Indeed, once Sirius had stopped punching walls and had returned to his laughing, mischief-making form, James was certain that this was going to be the best year of his life. Over the first few days of term, the pair had managed to charm Snape's socks to scream in exaggerated agony every time Snape took a step, had sneaked into the Slytherin dormitories to put frog spawn in the Slytherins' shampoo, and had filled the new caretaker's office with so many Dungbombs that Mr. Filch was unable to enter it for three whole days. And, what was perhaps most surprising of all was that they had managed to get through the week without one single detention, which may have been a record for both James and Sirius.

By the time their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson rolled around on Friday, James was flying high. The Gryffindors shared the class with the second-year Ravenclaws, and all of the students sat expectantly at their desks, chatting aimlessly or else wondering what the new professor would be like. Word around the school was that he was a bully and a git, though the second years remained hopeful that the rumors were overblown. After about ten minutes of waiting, however, and with still no sign of the professor, the students started to become antsy.

"This is rubbish," Sirius said to James, leaning his chair back on two legs. "I say we give him two more minutes and then we skive off."

"You can't skive off," said a flabbergasted Remus. "It's the first Defense lesson of the year!"

Sirius shrugged and dropped the front legs of his chair back onto the ground with a thump. "So? Where is this bloke? I have better things I could be doing with my time, you know, instead of waiting for him." At this, he began tapping his wand on his knee impatiently.

Remus scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like messing with Snape, of course! It's been two whole days since we had any fun with him at all…I don't want him thinking we've forgotten about him."

"I could be practicing Quidditch," said James, who had been doodling aimlessly on the inside cover of his brand new Defense book. "You know, tryouts are only a few weeks away and I've barely flown at all since term started."

Remus shook his head at the pair of them, but held his tongue. Just then, the door to the classroom slammed open so violently that several of the girls in the front row let out frightened squeaks. Apparently oblivious to the unnecessary drama of the door opening, Professor Philpott strolled into the classroom. He was a squirrelly little man, with enormous ears, thick glasses, and an awkward, twitchy demeanor about him. James personally thought that Professor Philpott looked like the world's biggest loser.

Loser or not, he appeared to be in a very foul mood. He slammed a stack of parchment down on his desk and then turned to sneer at them all.

"All right, you pesky little vermin," he said. The students all looked around at one another, startled at having been addressed in such a manner. "This is level two, Defense Against the Dark Arts. If any of you is looking for an easy time of it, or a place where you think you can have a laugh, you're in the wrong classroom."

His hands were on his hips as if he were a scolding parent, and he stared around at them all in what he seemed to think was an intimidating fashion. James glanced next to him at Sirius, who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Now," he said, scratching at a bump on his chin and glaring at all of them as if they were something very loathsome on the bottom of his shoe, "I'm sure that some of you will attempt to finagle me with what you suppose to be your youthful charms. I will tell you right now that I am not so easily swayed. Youth, in my opinion, is the worst of diseases and can unfortunately be cured only with time. I have no doubt that this class, like the rest of the students I have met this week, are insolent, immature, and lazy."

He looked around at the class as if expecting some sort of reaction to this ridiculous pronouncement. When he received nothing back but blank stares, he rolled his eyes and strode forward.

"For instance, you there," he said, pointing randomly to Lily Evans, who instinctively scooted her chair a few inches away from him, "I bet you spent your summer lazing about and playing _games_ with all of your equally lazy friends."

"Er…" Lily didn't seem to know whether he was looking for a response or not. When he continued staring at her expectantly, she fumbled over her words. "Well, I, erm…that is to say…what was the question, Professor?"

"I was looking for you to give me a reason to believe that this class is not as useless and lazy as I have supposed, Miss…"

"Evans, sir."

"Right, Miss Evans. Now would you like to try to prove my assumptions wrong, or are you content with stuttering and sitting there like nothing more than a blushing violet?"

Despite the fact that she was, indeed, blushing scarlet, the insult seemed to steel Lily's nerve. Her spine straightened and she looked determinedly back at Professor Philpott, a cool grin now playing on her lips.

"Actually, Professor, if you're asking how I spent my summer, I _did_ apply for a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

This seemed to astonish the thoroughly gullible Professor Philpott. "You…wait, you _did_?"

"Yes," replied Lily easily. "But the Ministry of Magic doesn't often hire twelve-year-olds. What did _you_ do this summer?"

The rest of the class laughed at Lily's gall, and Sirius actually clapped his hands a few times in approval. James grinned in spite of himself – he still had not completely forgiven Lily Evans for her Tripping Jinx the week before.

At this point, Professor Philpott looked entirely caught off guard by Lily's response and the reaction of her classmates. He started chewing nervously on his fingernails for a moment as if trying to bide his time before answering her.

"Well…that's completely…I…unemployed, you see…but I was waiting to hear back from Dumbledore…beside the point…" He collected himself. "That is none of your business, Miss Evans!"

"Apologies, Professor," chirped Lily. "Only trying to follow your lead and make pleasant conversation."

"Yes, well, five points from Gryffindor for your nosiness." He returned to his position at the front of the classroom. "Now, if you will all take out your quills and copy down these notes…"

As Philpott turned his back on the class to write on the blackboard, James once again caught Sirius's eye and he knew that he and his friend were sharing the same thought at the moment – that they were going to have a lot of fun messing with Professor Philpott.

* * *

James and Sirius spent the next few weeks devising their first prank on Professor Philpott. After the horrible first lesson, things had gotten decidedly worse. Philpott, with his flapping ears, thick glasses, and exceedingly unpleasant demeanor, would enter every lesson acting as if he would prefer to be locked up in Azkaban over teaching their class. His manner suggested that he believed himself to be doing the students an enormous favor by teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quickly, he became every Hogwarts student's least favorite teacher. The first part of every lesson consisted of him insulting them all before spending the remainder of the hour writing notes on the blackboard, which they were all supposed to copy down, their wands stowed uselessly in their pockets or school bags.

On the third Friday of the term, James and Sirius left lunch about fifteen minutes early, donned the Invisibility Cloak and sneaked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom before class was set to start. It was not a difficult joke to prepare, which was lucky considering that Remus had absolutely refused to play a part in it. He claimed that Philpott was likely to literally curse them all in response, the idea of which scared Peter away as well.

Emerging from the classroom with a few minutes to spare, James removed the cloak from their heads and the two boys joined the throng of students in the corridor. He grinned at Sirius.

"That git won't know what hit him."

"I still don't get why Dumbledore would make someone like that our teacher," Sirius said as they joined Remus and Peter in the hallway.

"Nutter if I ever saw one."

Remus was looking at them, his eyes narrowed knowingly.

"You two are up to something."

"Who, us?" said Sirius innocently.

James sniggered. "You'll be thanking us in a few minutes, Remus."

Remus shook his head. "I don't want to know."

Peter, however, looked frightened. "You don't think he'll really curse us, do you James?"

"Nah, he's not going to curse a whole class of students. And there's no way he could know it was us."

The four followed a group of Ravenclaw girls into the classroom and took their seats in the back, Peter still looking slightly nervous. As always, Professor Philpott was several minutes late to class, leaving the students time to chatter among themselves. Despite their original irritation at their professor's tendency for tardiness, the time he was absent at the beginning of the hour had soon become their favorite part of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The less time they had to spend in his presence, the better.

James glanced up at the fine mist that coated the ceiling of the classroom, just waiting to be activated. No one who didn't already know it was there would ever notice it. He turned back to his friends, who were still discussing how Philpott managed to secure the teaching post at Hogwarts.

"Maybe Philpott put the Imperius Curse on Dumbledore," Peter was saying. "Why else would Dumbledore hire him?"

"No way Philpott could curse Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore's way too powerful to be cursed by a weasel like Philpott."

"Maybe Philpott is his nephew or something, and Dumbledore felt bad for him because he couldn't find a job anywhere else."

"You know, he's never actually done any magic in this class. Do you think he's a Squib?"

"Nah, he siphoned the stain off his robes when he spilled that ink pot last week, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Well maybe he's _part_ Squib."

"You can't be a part Squib. You're either a Squib or not."

"Hey James," Sirius interrupted, clearly bored of the conversation. "Davey Gudgeon's starting that Whomping Willow tournament tomorrow – single elimination and whoever gets closest to the tree wins ten Galleons."

"Simple," said James. "There's no way I don't win."

"Scrawny git like you?" Sirius snorted. "No chance you get within spitting distance of the trunk!"

James puffed up, affronted. "I'm not scrawny! I'm taller than Peter!"

"Hey!" objected Peter.

"And besides," James continued, "being smaller would be an advantage! I'm a harder target for the tree to hit!"

"Yeah, but a strong gust of wind is likely to knock you over!"

"I'll bet you five Galleons that I can touch that trunk!"

"You're on," Sirius grinned. "I was needing some new Dungbombs anyway, as I used the last of my supply on Filch's office."

James glared at him, a retort on his tongue, but at that moment, Philpott came stomping into the classroom, the usual grimace on his face.

"Shut up, all of you," Philpott snarled by way of greeting and the chatter died away at once. James and Sirius both stifled their laughs. "Petulant little dingbats, the lot of you. Now bring your homework papers up here at once, though I have little hope that they are any better than last week's, which made me weep for the future of wizard-kind."

There was quite a lot of shuffling and murmuring as the students made their way to the front of the classroom to give Philpott their essays. James handed his in and then looked at Sirius, who nodded at him. Using the movement and muttering of his fellow classmates as a cover, James pointed his wand at the layer of Snorbet's Sensational Sneezing Dust that coated the ceiling and whispered the incantation to release the hold. The dust, unnoticed by anyone else, drifted lazily down and settled on the surfaces of the classroom. James gave Sirius a quick thumbs-up signal and sat back down at his desk.

"Now," said Philpott as the last of the students returned to their seats, "I am going to attempt to teach you the difference between a hex, a jinx, and a curse. I am not optimistic that your pea-sized brains are going to be able to – AH CHOO!"

Philpott sneezed violently at the exact same time as every single student in the room.

"Gesundheit," said Sirius. James bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Well," said Philpott, looking rather confused. He sniffled. "I mean to say…where was I…oh yes, jinxes versus hexes versus curses. I don't foresee – AH CHOO!"

The entire class sneezed again. As Philpott removed a handkerchief from his pocket, the students looked at each other, some with confusion and others with knowing glances to the back of the classroom where the Marauders sat.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" Philpott seemed angrier than usual, which was saying something. "Which one of you – AH CHOO!"

By now, and despite the fact that all of them were sneezing as well, many of the second years were giggling at Philpott's obvious discomfort.

"AH CHOO! I will absolutely find out who is responsible – AH CHOO! – for this outward display of – AH CHOO! – insubordination and – AH CHOO! – clear disrespect!"

Philpott was raging now, his eyes watering and his humongous ears twitching with every sneeze. None of the students seemed too threatened; it was difficult to hear him over the reverberations of twenty people sneezing at the exact same time.

After several minutes of continuous sneezing, Philpott had had enough. "I'm – AH CHOO! – going to the – AH CHOO! – hospital wing. Clearly this is – AH CHOO! – some sort of – AH CHOO! – allergic response to you bunch of – AH CHOO! – miscreants. Class dismissed."

And with that, Philpott stormed out of the room, leaving the class of sneezing students in his wake. Sirius flicked his wand and muttered the counterjinx under his breath. The sneezing stopped immediately. Not exactly knowing how to react in such a situation, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws looked at each other, some laughing, some appearing thoroughly discomposed. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, James was the first to stand up and he grinned down at his friends. Another one of their plans had gone off without a hitch and on top of that, they now had all afternoon free.

"Well that was fun," Sirius said, as he and James made their way through their clambering classmates to the door.

"Can't say Philpott didn't have it coming to him, the nutter."

"I don't know what you're talking about…he's such a nice, cheerful bloke. His lessons are the highlight of my week."

James laughed at the cheery sarcasm. "Your sunshine in a sky full of storm clouds…"

"My chocolate cake in a bowl full of bananas…"

"Your golden Snitch on a pitch full of Bludgers…"

Remus and Peter caught up to them in the corridor, Peter blowing his nose rather loudly.

"That was brilliant, guys!"

"Of course it was," Sirius said.

"Wish we hadn't used all of our Snorbet's Dust, though," said James. "I wouldn't have minded putting some on Snivelly's pillow…"

"Yes," said Sirius, "and when Snape sneezes he'd probably cover all of his roommates in bogeys, his nose is so big!"

The laughter of the four boys echoed off the walls as they made their way out of the castle and onto the bright, inviting grounds, ready to enjoy their free afternoon.

* * *

"Oh Merlin, someone better take him to the hospital wing."

"Ew, is that blood coming from his eye?"

"We'd better get a teacher, quick."

"No need, here comes McGonagall now."

"Bugger, she doesn't look happy, does she?"

A large group of students had formed right outside the range of the Whomping Willow's flailing branches. In the center of the gathering, Davey Gudgeon was lying in the grass, writhing in pain with his hands obscuring the view of his very swollen eye.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

McGonagall had arrived. As a whole, the gathered students shuffled their feet and avoided eye contact. None of them seemed to want to answer her. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter stood at the back of the group, and although James felt as if they hadn't actually done anything wrong for once, he felt no need to draw attention to himself in front of an angry McGonagall.

"Mr. Gudgeon, what happened to your eye?"

Davey's response was an incoherent moan.

"He got hit by the Whomping Willow, Professor," said a fourth-year Hufflepuff girl called Bertha Jorkins. "He was trying to get close to the trunk."

McGonagall sighed and surveyed them all sternly before leaning down and helping Davey to his feet. "Come on, up you get, Gudgeon. Hospital wing." She turned back to the crowd of students. "And none of you is to go anywhere near the Whomping Willow again, unless you want to be expelled from Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?"

The students nodded shamefacedly as McGonagall led Davey back to the castle.

"Stupid git," Sirius muttered a little while later as the boys made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower. "You'd have to be blind as a bat to not see that branch coming at you."

"I hope he's okay," said Remus, who had gone very white. "His eye looked really bad."

"Madam Pomfrey will patch him up in no time," Peter said. "Remember that Slytherin last year who cursed his own eyelids off? He didn't even have to stay the night in the hospital wing, that's how good she is."

"I didn't even get a chance to try for myself," grumbled James.

"Try to curse your own eyelids off?" Peter asked, confused.

"No, dummy, I didn't get to try to touch the tree."

"Oh, don't pretend as if you're sad about it," Sirius laughed as they climbed through the portrait hole. "Now you don't have to make a fool of yourself AND you don't have to pay me five Galleons!"

"I would not have made a fool of myself!" James said indignantly. "I would have won that gold off of you fair and square!"

Sirius grinned. "Sure you would have."

"Well you seem rather happy about me not getting my chance, Sirius. Maybe you were getting worried that I'd show you up in front of everyone."

"I wasn't worried. It's okay if you've lost your nerve."

"I have not lost my nerve! I've got loads of nerve!"

"Prove it."

"Sirius," Remus said, stepping between the two bickering friends, "James can't try and take on the Willow now. You heard what McGonagall said. He'll be expelled."

Sirius flopped down in the squashy arm chair by the fire and jutted his chin out as he thought this over. "Hm. Well there are other ways for him to prove he hasn't lost his nerve and for me to get my gold off him."

James narrowed his eyes. "You mean for me to get the gold off of you."

"Well then, are you up for a different kind of wager, Potty?"

"Don't call me that," James snapped. Sirius just grinned innocently at him. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

"This is mad. We're all going to get expelled."

"Shut up, Peter. No one made you come."

"I wanted to watch!"

"Well then stop whining!"

"I was just saying...it's only five Galleons...not worth getting chucked out of school..."

"Shut up, the lot of you! I think someone's coming."

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all stood huddled under James's Invisibility Cloak behind a suit of armor on the third floor. They had found that they had to scrunch a little closer together to all fit under the cloak this year as, despite Sirius's teasing of James, they had all grown rather a lot over the summer. Seeing how it was the middle of the night, the third-floor corridor was dark and deserted, with one minor exception.

From the end of the hallway came a soft mewling sound that made all the boys jump. The new caretaker's cat, who he lovingly dubbed Mrs. Newton, stalked into view, looking around as if she knew someone was there.

"That's Filch's cat," whispered James unnecessarily, "which means that he's probably not far off. Now's our chance."

Assured by the silent nods of his friends, James pointed his wand at a suit of armor at the far end of the corridor, which tumbled over with a crash that would surely wake the whole castle. Mrs. Newton gave a frightened hiss and streaked away, clearly startled by the loud clanging.

"All right, let's go," said James, and the boys slipped into one of the many secret passageways that they had found the previous year, just as the telltale footsteps of Filch hurried to the scene.

"Students out of bed," they heard him wheeze as they crept down the hidden stairs. "Or else that miserable poltergeist again. We'll find them, my sweet…"

The sound of Filch's voice faded as they shimmied out of the passage and into the dimly lit first floor corridor, stopping to check that all of their elbows and feet were still covered by the cloak.

"Good," James whispered. "That ought to keep him occupied for a bit, which will give me plenty of time…"

"You know, this is a really messed up dare, Sirius," Remus said as they made their way to the end of the hall toward the dungeons.

"Yeah, what sort of freaky mind have you got that you come up with things like this?'

Sirius grinned and shrugged. "Well my first thought was to have James steal McGonagall's knickers, but even that was too disgusting for me to suggest, so I went with Filch instead."

"McGonagall's?" James shuddered, appalled. "Well I guess I should consider myself lucky you went with Filch."

They came to a halt in front of Filch's office, straining their ears for any foreign sounds, but the corridor was silent. Pointing his wand at the handle of the door, James whispered, _"Alohomora,"_ and the latch clicked open. He took one more glance around the deserted corridor before darting out from under the cloak and into Filch's office.

The office was empty, as James knew it would be, though the lamps were still lit and there was a faint smell of lingering Dungbomb in the air. Knowing that he didn't have more than a minute or two, James hurried over to the door behind Filch's desk which led to his living quarters. After performing a second unlocking charm, he slid inside and looked around. It was a small room, with a four-poster bed, much like the ones in Gryffindor Tower, and a small, dusty bureau underneath the window. James opened the top drawer of the bureau, which held an assortment of dried cat food. He tried the second drawer and found what he was looking for. Grimacing, James grabbed an old pair of yellowing underpants before hurrying back to the corridor, resealing both doors behind him.

"Where are you?" he whispered into the seemingly empty corridor.

"We're right here," said Peter, as he, Sirius, and Remus materialized from thin air.

"Did you get them?"

"Yeah, I got them," said James, throwing the pants into Sirius's face. "You owe me five Galleons, you pervy freak."

"Eurgh," said Sirius, using his wand to make the pants float in mid-air, as to not touch them. "It looks like they haven't been washed in years."

"Let's put the cloak back on," Remus whispered, glancing around nervously. "Anyone could see us, standing around like this."

Remus threw the cloak over their heads just in time, as Mrs. Newton came slinking around the corner just a second later, followed closely by Filch. Peter gasped in horror, but James clamped a hand over his mouth. While the boys were quite invisible, unfortunately, Sirius was still levitating the pants in front of them, in full view of the irritated caretaker.

"What's that, my sweet?" Filch muttered, stalking closer to the office door and squinting at the floating underwear. The boys backed away silently, Sirius's wand still pointing outward as Filch got nearer and nearer. "Why, those look as if they could be…" Filch stopped speaking when he seemed to realize what exactly was floating in front of his office door. His face turned an ugly, blotchy pink and he made a swipe at the pants, but Sirius flicked his wand and they sailed above Filch's outstretched hand.

The boys all doubled up with silent laughter as Filch continued to try and grab his underwear, but Sirius's wand was much too quick for him. The pants darted around the corridor tauntingly, but Filch's only response was to swear profusely and bat at them as though they were a pesky fly.

There was a loud cackle from the end of the hallway and they all turned to see Peeves the Poltergeist zooming toward Filch.

"Dancey, dancey, underpantsy!" he sang, laughing at Filch's attempts from above.

"I'll get you for this, you horrid creature!" Filch bellowed as Sirius made his pants tap him on the side of the head before floating up out of his reach once more.

Peeves blew a loud raspberry, soared through Filch's outstretched arms, and grabbed the pants out of thin air before flying out of sight.

Filch and Mrs. Newton sprinted off after him, Filch yelling, "Come back with those, you pesky ghoul!"

"First Philpott, then Filch," said Sirius between laughs. "Second year is fantastic, isn't it?"

"Come on," Remus whispered, after the four boys had stopped convulsing with laughter and had composed themselves a bit. "We should get back up to Gryffindor Tower."

The trek back to the common room was a slow one, as not only did they have to contend with moving as a huddled, invisible mass, but they also had to keep stopping when they were once again overcome with fits of laughter. Still chuckling appreciatively, James pulled the cloak off when they were in front of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was sleeping soundly against her frame, and it took several impatient shouts to wake her up.

"Bowtruckle," James told her, but she did not swing forward at the sound of the password to allow them entrance.

"What are you four doing out here this time of night?" she asked, staring down at them all with disapproval.

"Just been on a bit of an adventure, nothing to worry about," Sirius told her. _"Bowtruckle."_

But still the painting remained motionless as the woman depicted in it narrowed her eyes at them.

"An adventure?" she echoed. "Curfew was hours ago, even for the upper years. An adventure indeed! You four boys do quite enough wandering round the castle by night. You're going to lose Gryffindor points, you know."

"Not if we're not caught, we're not," said Sirius. "And if you don't let us in, it only makes it more likely we get caught. _Bowtruckle_."

The Fat Lady pursed her lips, but Sirius gave her a bright smile, blinking up at her with innocent eyes, and after a moment, she sighed and swung open to admit them entrance into the empty common room.

"You're going to regret the sleep you've lost come morning time," they heard her say before the door closed behind them.

"We'll sleep when we're dead," said James to no one in particular before turning to Sirius, his palm outstretched and a hellion grin on his face. "Now…that will be five Galleons!"

Sirius reached in his pocket and slapped the gold into James's hand.

"Well," he said with a fresh burst of laughter, "seeing Filch's pants dancing in the air and getting to blame the whole thing on Peeves? I'd say that was the best five Galleons I've ever spent!"

* * *

The next few weeks passed rather uneventfully for the four boys, though James's confidence had never been higher. Not only had he won the bet against Sirius and five Galleons to boot, but the news of their sneezing trick on Professor Philpott had spread around school to the general amusement of all students. Everyone was thrilled to hear about Philpott being taken down a few notches. As eager as James and Sirius were to mess with the professor again, their scheming time had been limited – James had begun spending every evening on the Quidditch pitch, practicing the moves and tactics that he was sure would help him get a spot on the team. He still regretted not making the team as a first year and wanted more than anything to become a Gryffindor Chaser.

The evening before tryouts were set to be held, James entered the Gryffindor common room, his broomstick resting on his shoulder. He had been on the Quidditch pitch practicing with a third year called Andrew Adamsly since lessons had ended that afternoon, and he intended to change out of his dirty robes before grabbing a late supper. His progress toward the boys' staircase was halted, however, when he spotted Sirius and Peter sitting at a table in the corner and decided to go say hello. The pair was playing a game of Exploding Snap, which Sirius seemed to be winning convincingly – Peter's robes were rather singed.

"Hi," he said, grinning at them.

"Hi James!" said Peter.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Sirius asked, tapping a card with his wand to force the smoke to stop spiraling up from its edges.

James nodded and lowered the broomstick from his shoulder, picking a loose bristle from the tail. "I'm going to be the best Chaser that Hogwarts has ever seen, just you wait."

"I won't hold my breath, if that's okay," Sirius laughed.

James threw a dirty look at him and then glanced around the bustling common room. "Where's Remus?"

Sirius's laugh immediately died, replaced by concern and something akin to agitation. "Don't know. He hasn't looked well for the last few days, though, have you noticed?"

Peter's face was scrunched up in apprehension as he picked his next card from the pile. When it did not explode, he sighed in relief and suggested, "Maybe he went down to the hospital wing?"

James sat down at the table with them, cradling his broomstick in his lap and frowning in confusion at the thought of Remus. "Maybe. You would think he'd say something to one of us though if that were the case."

"You would think," said Sirius bitterly. "But it wouldn't be the first time he just disappeared to the hospital wing without telling us, would it?"

Neither James nor Peter felt the need to answer the question. There were several moments of silence as they all pondered Remus's odd behavior before Sirius seemed to remember the game and drew himself another card.

"Hey, James," Peter said, suddenly changing the subject. "Guess what I heard earlier? Davey Gudgeon isn't going to be able to try out for the team tomorrow! His eye's not better from the Willow and Pomfrey won't let him!"

"What's that to me? I could beat Davey Gudgeon with both my hands jinxed behind my back," James scoffed, but insides his spirits lifted – this opened up the odds of him making the team even more.

"Well, I just thought you'd like to know," mumbled Peter.

Sirius clearly wasn't paying attention to their conversation, but seemed to be staring at something over James's left shoulder with a bit of a dazed expression on his face. James twisted in his seat to see a group of fourth-year girls had just entered the room through the portrait hole. Sniggering, James turned back toward the table, grabbed one of the forgotten Exploding Snap cards, and chucked it at Sirius's head, where it exploded right in front of his face. Sirius cursed and fell off his chair.

"Smooth," James said, laughing at his friend as he pulled himself back up into his seat.

"What'd you do that for, eh?" Sirius asked, brushing off his robes.

James shrugged and looked around again. The group of girls had disappeared up the dormitory staircase.

"Which one is it then?"

"Which one is what?"

"Which girl were you gaping at like a fish?"

"I wasn't gaping at anyone like a fish!"

"Were too! There's a puddle of drool right there on the table!"

"Sod off, Potter."

James's retort died in his throat when he noticed Remus making his way hesitantly down the boys' staircase and crossing to the portrait hole.

"Oi! Remus!"

Remus jumped and turned toward them, looking sheepish and very pale. James couldn't remember ever having seen his friend look so horrible, which was saying something, as Remus tended to look ill every few weeks. The boy in question shuffled over to their table, but did not take the empty seat next to James.

"We were wondering where you were!" said Peter.

"You've been up in the dormitory this whole time?' asked Sirius.

Remus fidgeted and glanced out the window. "No, I've just been, er, here and there."

"Here and there?"

"Yes. I had to, er, go talk to Flitwick about our Charms homework and then I ran into McGonagall and…and she said my mother's very ill again and I'm supposed to go home tonight and see her."

James, Sirius, and Peter stared at him.

"You have to go home tonight?"

"Yes, that's what McGonagall told me." Remus wasn't looking at them, but it was impossible not to notice the way he was fumbling with his fingers. "I'm supposed to go to her office in a few minutes to use her fire so that I can Floo home."

James couldn't help but note how nervous Remus sounded, but then he figured it was probably just worry for his mother. Something like that might make a kid act a bit off, James figured.

"Will you be back in the morning?" he asked.

"Er, no, probably not until tomorrow night, at the earliest."

"But you'll miss Quidditch tryouts!" James said. "You won't be there to see me make the team!"

"Oh," said Remus in a small voice, his eyes flickering over to the window once again, "well it's not really my choice, you know, she's very sick. I'm sorry, James, I wish I could be there. I-I really do."

James felt his insides clinch in guilt. "No," he said. "Sorry, you're right. Your mum's much more important than Quidditch tryouts."

Sirius and Peter looked at him in astonishment – they had never heard him say that _anything_ was more important than Quidditch.

"Well, I'd better be off," Remus said, glancing out the window. "But, er, I'll see you lot tomorrow night hopefully. Good luck with tryouts, James."

He hurried out of the portrait hole almost before he had finished speaking. James looked at Sirius and Peter. Peter appeared confused, but Sirius's face had darkened and looked almost calculating.

"Do you guys get the feeling that there's something Remus isn't telling us?"

James sighed. "His mum is sick, Sirius. It'd make anyone act funny if their mum was that sick."

"I'd be walking on air if my mum were about to snuff it," said Sirius with a snort. He was still staring at the closed portrait hole as if trying to decode it. "No, I think there's something else. Remus is hiding something from us, and I'm going to figure out what it is."


	14. 2-4 or 'Discovery'

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm excited to post this one...everyone has a version of this in their heads. I hope I've done it justice. Please let me know what you think!_ _ **  
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* * *

 **Chapter 14 - 2.4 or "Discovery"**

Sirius Black, as James and Peter discovered over the next several weeks, was simply not one to let an idea drop.

Despite James's hesitance and Peter's noncommittal nervousness, Sirius became determined to keep a close eye on Remus's routines and behaviors. Remus had returned to Gryffindor Tower the night after their suspicion-piquing conversation, looking exhausted and ill, but otherwise in good spirits. He had heartily congratulated James on making the Quidditch team and had listened patiently as James recounted every swerve, pass, and goal he had made during his tryout.

Remus's actions simply didn't make any sense at all, Sirius thought as he watched him laugh at a reenactment of a particularly tricky dive. He left every few weeks, for a day or two at a time, and always looked like he was very sick himself, occasionally sporting bruises or lacerations that he stoically attempted to obscure from his friends' view. The story surrounding his mother's mystery illness was hazy at best. Unless she was on her deathbed, why would Mrs. Lupin not want Remus to visit her on the weekends, at the very least, so that he didn't miss lessons? And why did Remus's visits to see her always result in his own poor health?

So, from that point on, whenever James was otherwise occupied on the Quidditch pitch, Sirius would make an excuse and sneak off to his least favorite place at Hogwarts – the library. He had decided that there was only one conclusion to be drawn from Remus's odd behavior: that Remus himself must be ill, not his mother, and that he didn't want his friends to know about it. Sirius pored over books depicting various ailments and illnesses, but none of them seemed to fit the circumstances. Remus did not have the marks left by dragon pox; there were no obvious symptoms of Agrippa's ague; he was not constantly incapacitated as he would be if he had spattergroit; and he didn't show any of the traces of any other magical illnesses that Sirius was able to find.

"Maybe his mum really is ill," James argued, one evening while the two of them were sitting detention together. McGonagall had most unfortunately caught them in the act of putting a flobberworm down the back of a Slytherin girl's robes.

"But he acts so _strange_ in the days leading up to his visits home, almost as if he knows it's coming." It was a discussion that had become well-worn over recent weeks, and Sirius felt himself treading the familiar paths of the argument. "But then he always claims to have just been called home and leaves that night."

"Well it can't be easy, knowing your mum's that ill."

"But if she was really that ill, wouldn't he go home for more than a night or two at a time? Wouldn't he go home on the weekends or something?"

"I dunno," James whispered, glancing across the greenhouse. Professor Sprout was not paying them any attention at all, despite the fact that they had only cleaned out two of the soiled flower pots that were stacked in the corner. It was going to be a long night. "She must be really, really sick, I guess."

"But that's the thing…if she's so sick, why hasn't she kicked the cauldron?"

"Sirius, that's a horrible thing to say."

"I'm just being reasonable. He's been going home to visit her off and on ever since we got here, it seems," Sirius said, throwing the pot he had been cleaning aside and staring out the window at the darkening sky. "If it's so dire, how has she hung on for so long?"

"She's a Muggle, right? And Remus said that Muggles have different kinds of Healers, so maybe Muggle sicknesses are different too."

Sirius wasn't convinced. "We saw her on the platform at King's Cross, remember?" he pressed. "She was hugging Remus goodbye. She didn't look sick at all to me, and if she was so ill, how did she get all the way to London?"

"Look," said James, lowering his voice and glancing again at Sprout, "I trust Remus. He wouldn't lie to us. He's our friend."

"But it's not that easy," Sirius countered. "We made a pact last year, and I think Remus has been breaking it ever since. We've got to figure out what's really going on, James. I don't like being lied to."

"Well if he is lying – which I don't think he is because why would he lie to us about his mum being sick? – I'm sure he has a good reason. It's _Remus_. He's the most reasonable person I know."

Sirius was still staring out the window, unswayed. "You said you trust Remus, though. Shouldn't he trust us just as much?"

James sighed but did not respond, probably acknowledging the futility of arguing with a determined Sirius, who took advantage of the silence to press on.

"There's got to be some sort of pattern to his leaving. Three weeks ago, he left on a Friday and came back on Saturday…and last year, remember, he missed the Herbology exam in June and came back the next day to sit it…"

At this moment, Professor Sprout walked over to check on them, so Sirius fell silent. She surveyed the freshly cleaned pots and then looked pointedly at the tower of dirty ones.

"Let's pick up the pace here, you two. We don't want to be here until the wee hours of the morning, do we?"

James didn't speak until he was sure she was out of earshot again.

"Your birthday's in a few days," he said, clearly trying to get Sirius's mind off of Remus. "What do you want to do for it? Want to mess with Philpott?"

Sirius didn't answer. He was gazing out the window at the moon, which seemed to be shining extra bright that evening. He looked for a second as if he had had an epiphany, but the next moment he was shaking his head, trying to shake off the idea like a dog shakes off an itch.

"What?" James asked.

"Nothing," said Sirius, grabbing the next pot to clean out. "Er, yeah, a prank would be good, I think. We can try that one on Philpott we were talking about…"

The two boys spent the rest of their detention in whispered discussions of their next bout of trickery, Sirius doing everything in his power to forget the horrible thought that had occurred to him and refusing to look out the window again for the rest of the night.

* * *

Sirius's thirteenth birthday found the Gryffindor and Slytherin second years huddled at their tables in the Potions dungeon, attempting to see through the heavy, sweet smelling smoke that emanated from their cauldrons of Swelling Solution. The Gryffindors were all in rather high spirits, having just come from Defense Against the Dark Arts, where the Marauders had yet again pulled off another masterful jape on the unsuspecting – but not undeserving – Professor Philpott.

In honor of the occasion, James and Sirius had decided to mess with Philpott again, considering what a rousing success their sneezing trick had been. Remus and Peter agreed to help this time, which was fortunate, as Remus was the one who figured out how to charm the blackboard. Every time Philpott had written anything on the blackboard, the writing had automatically reformed into crude insults about the professor. It had taken Philpott rather a long time to realize what the students were all laughing at, and he had spent the remainder of the lesson telling them what a bunch of no-good hooligans they all were, the blackboard swearing away behind him to general amusement.

Despite this, Remus was embroiled in his own trepidation. He had noticed his friends acting funny around him ever since the last full moon. Sirius, in particular, seemed rather short with him, and Remus had caught him once or twice staring in his direction with narrowed eyes. Sirius had also been off on his own more, disappearing when James left for Quidditch practice. This by itself wouldn't have been so very strange, though one time Remus swore that he saw Sirius emerging from the library, a place he usually avoided like the plague.

The fear of Remus's friends finding out his secret was beginning to consume him. He had started having nightmares, his latest Transfiguration paper had received marks well below his standard, and his appetite had left him much earlier than usual this month. Remus was starting to feel as if he was walking blindly into a trap that had been laid for him many years ago, that the corridor he was traversing was becoming narrower and narrower, and at any moment he would stumble into the deep hole the wolf had been digging for him all along.

And then they would know, and there would be no more adventures, no more laughter, no more Hogwarts at all…

There was no way around it: that evening, Remus would once again be shuffled through the tunnel at the base of the Whomping Willow for his transformation. He was exhausted from his angst and disrupted sleep, the tremors in his legs had already begun, his spine ached with anticipation, and he knew the worst was still to come. But the pain of the transformation was nothing – a blip, really – compared to the terror he endured at the thought of telling Sirius that he had to go away again on his birthday.

It was unsurprising, then, with his thoughts elsewhere, that Remus and James's Swelling Solution, which was supposed to be an opaque blue, was currently the color and consistency of tar. Slughorn had made the class keep the same partners they had worked with in first year, though he had moved Remus and James's table to the far end of the dungeon from where Sirius and Gin sat, in an effort to rein in the havoc that James and Sirius tended to wreak when they were within ten feet of each other.

Remus was trying to figure out a new lie to tell his friends that evening ( _Pathetic_ , the voice in his head hissed), when a loud disturbance on the opposite side of the room snapped him out of his thoughts. Mary Macdonald was sobbing on the floor, cradling her hands, which had enlarged grotesquely to at least three times their normal size. Sirius and Gin, whose table was just behind Mary and Halden Wilkes's, both had their wands pointed at Wilkes, who was careening around the room with angry red boils covering his chubby face.

"What is this?" roared Slughorn, his enormous belly bouncing in front of him as he hurried across the dungeon. He flicked his wand at Wilkes, who was at least relieved of the Jelly-Legs Jinx at once, though the boils still remained. "Mr. Black! Miss Leigh! How dare you jinx another student in my classroom!"

"Look what he did to Mary!" Sirius yelled, pointing at the girl in question, who was still crying on the floor.

"We saw the whole thing, Professor," Gin said. Remus had never seen Gin even remotely lose her calm countenance before, and even now only the angry shaking of her voice betrayed any emotion. "He called her a terrible word and threw the potion at her!"

The whole class had gone silent, though the Slytherins looked rather amused. The only sounds in the dungeon were the soft gurgles from the cauldrons and the hiss of flames from beneath them.

"Is that true, Mr. Wilkes?"

"No, Professor," said Wilkes, though his eyes were dancing malevolently. "I just spilled the potion on her by accident."

"That's rubbish!" shouted Sirius. "We were standing right here, we heard what he said, he wasn't even attempting to keep his voice down, the bloody git –"

"Oh sod off, Black, and mind your own business, why don't you?"

Sirius started to raise his wand again, but Gin placed an assuaging hand on his forearm, just as Slughorn interjected with, "That is _quite_ enough." He turned from the two scowling boys to observe Mary, who was now being comforted by Raeanne. "Go on to the hospital wing, Miss Macdonald. Madam Pomfrey can administer a Deflating Draught and have you back to normal in no time. Muller, you may escort her."

Raeanne helped Mary to her feet and the two left the dungeon under the obvious stares of the rest of their classmates. Sirius still looked ready to lunge at Wilkes.

"Now, Wilkes, you'll serve a detention with me next week…" started Slughorn, clearly agitated.

"And the boils?" Wilkes asked, pointing to his blistered face.

Slughorn shifted his considerable weight from one foot to the other. "Under the circumstances, I think it'd be best if you wait here until the lesson ends before seeing Madam Pomfrey to have them looked after." He turned to Sirius and Gin. "Black and Leigh, detention with Madam Pince in the library. Nothing gives you the right to jinx another student in my classroom."

Gin looked horrified and a bit embarrassed. Remus couldn't really fault her, he had never seen her get into any sort of trouble before. Sirius, on the other hand, who was assigned detentions multiple times a week, didn't seem remotely fazed. He continued glaring at Wilkes until the bell rang fifteen minutes later, signaling the end of the lesson.

"That was absolute bollocks," Sirius said, as Remus, James, and Peter caught up to him and Gin in the corridor. "Wilkes was saying horrible stuff to Mary the entire lesson and dumped that potion on her on purpose."

"Wilkes is a pig," Gin told them. "You know what he said to her?"

"What?"

"He asked if she had read about those Muggle killings in Manchester. Told her that her family was next."

 _"What_?"

Sirius nodded grimly. "He kept calling her a Mudblood, all through class…that no-good, slimy, dung-for-brains…where does he get off, treating people like that…"

The rest of the group walked in silence back up to Gryffindor Tower to drop their books off before supper, all with different levels of success in tuning out Sirius's ranting. As disgusted as he was about Wilkes and Mary, Remus had more pressing issues to attend to – one being that he was supposed to meet Madam Pomfrey soon for their monthly trek to the Willow, and the second being that his legs felt as if they were going to give out on him at any moment. He lagged behind the group, unable to keep pace and cringing at his own inadequacy.

By the time he climbed through the portrait hole, he found that Sirius's diatribe about Wilkes (which at some point had extended to Wilkes's mother and sister as well) had now tapered off. No one else even seemed to notice Remus's physical struggle, which was a small blessing.

"Have you heard much about these Muggle killings, Gin?" James asked.

Gin looked solemn. "A bit. There was an article in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning…"

"You get the _Prophet,_ do you?" Sirius interrupted.

"No. I was sitting next to Hestia Jones at breakfast…she's from outside Manchester and was a bit upset…well, the Muggles, they were killed by a group of wizards, apparently."

"Why would anyone want to kill Muggles?" Peter asked.

"Dark wizards." James's face shadowed. "Wizards who think Muggles and Muggle-borns are beneath them."

"That's horrible," said Peter.

"It's twisted," said Sirius. "It's idiot people like my parents who think like that."

"There's Mary." Gin nodded toward the portrait hole, where Mary and Raeanne had just appeared. Mary's hands seemed to be back to normal. Leaving the boys alone by the fire, Gin went to go see how her roommate was doing, just as Lily and Adin descended on Mary as well.

"We need something to lighten the mood," James told Sirius as they watched the group of girls disappear up the dormitory staircase. Remus leaned his back against the side of an armchair with as much nonchalance as possible, attempting to relieve some of the exertion from his trembling legs. "It's still your birthday, after all."

"Well at least Slughorn didn't give me detention for tonight. Some present that would be."

"And at least you get to sit the detention with Gin and not with Wilkes," Peter added.

Sirius grinned. "Amen to that. Gin's a bit easier on the eyes."

"We can sneak down to the kitchens tonight," James suggested. "Nick all sorts of sweets…have a midnight feast."

Remus's heart was in his throat, and for a second, he focused entirely on attempting to settle the churning in his stomach. When he spoke, his voice sounded foreign and echoed uncomfortably in his ears. "I actually have to leave again tonight…to see m-my mother. I've to meet McGonagall in a few minutes."

James, Peter, and Sirius stared at him, but Remus looked away, praying that they could not see the anxious vibrations of his muscles. He did not like the way all the color drained from Sirius's face.

"Again?" James said, after an awkward beat.

"Yes, I got an owl earlier. She's not…she's not doing well again."

"Well," said James, trying to compose himself. "Well…that's all right, I guess. I hope your mum starts to feel – Sirius, where are you going?"

Sirius, without a word to anyone, had turned on his heel and stalked up the staircase to the boys' dormitory. James threw an apologetic look at Remus before running after him. Remus took a deep breath, his panic practically choking him, but there was nothing of it. He looked at Peter, who was clearly torn between following them or remaining there with Remus.

"It's all right," Remus whispered, trying not to think of the look on Sirius's face. "You can go up there with them."

Peter, wide-eyed and hesitant, nodded, but he had only gone a few steps when Remus's voice stopped his progress.

"Oh, Peter? Would you…I mean, d-do you mind taking my bag upstairs for me please?" The truth was that, even if he had been in a state at the moment to face Sirius in the dormitory, Remus was certain his legs would not carry him up the stairs. "I…I have to get going."

Peter nodded again and shouldered Remus's school bag. "I hope your mum feels better," he murmured before proceeding across the common room and up the staircase.

Trying to breathe through his panic, Remus did not waste a moment before hurrying toward the portrait hole, mentally calculating whether he could make it to the seventh floor lavatory before the heaving would start, and doing everything in his power to ignore the dreaded voice in his head that told him that something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Peter, panting slightly under the weight of both his own and Remus's school bags, ran up to the boys' dormitory to find Sirius digging through his trunk, watched by an obviously bewildered James.

"What in the world was that all about?" he asked, dropping both bags on the floor with a thunk.

James shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on the back of Sirius's bent head. "Sirius, I know you're upset that Remus had to leave again on your birthday, but –"

"It's not that." Sirius stood up, having found what he had been rifling for. His face was still white and his eyes round as he flipped open his Astronomy chart and scanned it. After several moments of tense silence, he sank down gingerly on his trunk and stared up at Peter and James, an expression of shock – and perhaps, oddly enough, terror – on his face.

"Guys," he said in a slow, wavering voice. "Guys, I think I know what's wrong with Remus."

* * *

 _It's over. You're through. What will they do to a beast like you?_

The words, in a cadence almost like a chant, reverberated in Remus's head as he trekked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower the following evening, his feet heavy with exhaustion and dread. He had slept through much of the day, as was standard, but even Madam Pomfrey's Sleeping Draught had not subdued his pervasive nightmares, nor the incessant voice in his head.

The dismay that human Remus had felt prior to transforming had obviously riled the wolf's agitation. Madam Pomfrey had not only contended with his usual bruises and lacerations that morning, but also had to heal a broken wrist and a fractured kneecap; thus, Remus's slow movements were borne not solely from his dread of the inquisition he would soon be facing. Or that's what he told himself, anyway.

 _It's over. You're through. What will they do to a beast like you?_

All too soon, he was in front of the Fat Lady. His baser instincts told him to turn straight around and drag himself back to the hospital wing, that the matron would be happily obliged to keep him under her watchful eye for another night. But something else in him – the Gryffindor bit of him, perhaps – compelled him to mutter, "Bowtruckle," to the Fat Lady and pull himself forward into the common room.

The common room was almost entirely full, though the chatter was muted somewhat, as the majority of its inhabitants were listening closely to a voice that reverberated from the wireless set in the corner.

"…What a save by Birch, really, on the very tips of his fingers…he passes it to Cartwright, and the Puddlemere Chasers are off, streaking toward the Tornado rings…looks like a standard Fleet Formation they're using…"

Remus's eyes scanned the crowd for his friends and, most specifically, James's untidy hair, but his search was lacking. The panic returned, and Remus was forced to grip the back of a nearby chair to steady himself. The absence of James Potter during a much-anticipated league Quidditch match seemed to portend Remus's own ruination. He licked his dry, cracked lips, ignored the roar of celebration from the Puddlemere supporters in the crowd when their Chasers scored, and trudged up to the boys' dormitory as though marching to the gallows.

 _What will they do to a beast like you?_

He had hoped that perhaps they wouldn't be there, that perhaps they had sneaked down to the kitchens or were off exploring some uncharted corner of the castle, that perhaps he would be able to recuperate more of his energy before facing them, but when Remus opened the door to his dormitory a minute later, there they were. It was as if they were waiting for him. He paused on the threshold only momentarily before entering the room and closing the door behind him. One look at them, though, and he suddenly wished he had left the door open.

"Hello," Remus said. It was almost comical, but his instincts instructed him to act as normally as possible at that moment.

The just stared at him. James was gazing at him curiously, as if trying to read him. Peter looked terrified. And Sirius – well, Sirius looked downright furious.

"How's your mum?" Sirius said in a rough voice.

Was it possible that they _didn't_ know? Maybe they only knew that he had been lying about his mother, but not the extent of his secret. It was a flimsy hope, and one that would surely shatter under the pressure if he had to construct a different cover story, but it was a hope, nonetheless.

"She's, er, well she's doing better, actually, you know," Remus stammered. They would call him on his lie soon, he knew, but if he could bide his time, perhaps he could think of something else…a different excuse…

His hands began trembling as he moved to hold onto the post at the foot of his bed, trying to make the gesture look casual. _Keep talking_.

"The doctors say another few months and she'll probably be good as new. She even got out of bed some last night and was able to walk round the house and…I mean, I think it really helps her to see me, even for a short bit of time…really gives her some energy and…"

"Stop lying, Remus." James's voice was quiet, but it succeeded in shutting Remus up at once. He didn't sound angry, though – at least not compared to Sirius. Remus looked at him, almost pleadingly, his mind working sluggishly as he tried to come up with something…anything…

"I'm – I'm not lying. She – she –"

"We saw her on the platform, just a few months ago!" Sirius shouted. "And she didn't look sick at all! Certainly not like she had been sick for months now…"

"Well that was just…just one of her good days, I think," he said, with the absurd thought that maybe this was just another one of their jokes. That they would tell him they were just messing with him. That's all this was, just another prank.

But one look into Sirius's eyes told him that they weren't joking.

Sirius stood up and moved toward Remus, who gripped the bedpost more tightly, his sweaty fingers slipping against the wood grain. He was only steps away when he said it, and Remus could barely hear him over the ringing in his own ears.

"We know, okay? We know what you are. We want to hear it from you. Now. No more lies."

 _It's over. You're through._

Remus's mouth fumbled to find his tongue. It was as if the room were closing in on him. He couldn't have answered Sirius at that moment if his life had depended on it. From the common room – which may as well have been another universe – there was a loud cheer of support from fans of one team or the other, but the boys' dormitory remained tense and silent. The lack of answer from Remus seemed to ignite something in Sirius, though, and after a moment, he practically erupted with rage. Remus stepped backward instinctively, away from the bed and toward the wall. The thought of entrapment flitted across his mind. The wolf's freshly dug hole sprawled in front of him.

"What do you think we are, stupid?" Sirius cried, and his expression was tormented. "You're supposed to be our friend and you've been lying to us since we met you! Your mum's not sick at all, is she?"

Remus could feel his teeth rattling. He wanted to deny it, to run, but he couldn't look away from Sirius's grey eyes, boring into his own.

"N-no," he whispered, shocked at the rasp in his voice.

A shadow crossed over Sirius's face and before he knew what had happened, Remus found himself pushed up against the wall, one of Sirius's hands fisted in the front of his robes, the other pointing his wand right at Remus's heart. He could not suppress a small moan of pain when his bruised and aching back flattened against the hard stone.

"Sirius, no!" James shouted, springing up from his bed and approaching them, but Sirius paid him no mind.

For a fleeting moment, Remus remembered the first night of term and Sirius's fist flying repeatedly into the same stone wall that he was now pinned against. He sincerely hoped that his face wasn't about to take the place of the wall.

"Say it," Sirius growled, his fingers twisting tighter in Remus's robes.

Remus could feel his face warming and his throat burning. Why, oh why, had he not heeded his father's advice and refused the advances of friendship? He had been too weak to be content in solitude. But wouldn't loneliness be better than this…this terror and humiliation?

"I'm…" he started, but his voice cracked. He fought back the tears. He couldn't cry in front of them. He wouldn't. He was weak and pathetic and everything that the voice in his head had always said that he was. But the little bit of pride he had left was precious.

"Say it, Lupin!" Sirius looked unlike himself, rough and slightly unhinged.

 _What will they do to a beast like you?_

"I'm a bloody werewolf," he spat, shoving Sirius off of him with force he did not imagine he even possessed at that moment. He raised his arms, preparing to shield himself from Sirius's retaliation, but none came. His friends stared at him, eyes wide, mouths agape, and Remus finally, finally accepted the fact that everything was about to come crashing down. The image of his father's face, shocked and disappointed, flashed through his mind. Remus would be leaving Hogwarts – and everything he had grown to love – behind.

"Go ahead, curse me!" Remus yelled, shocked by the sudden strength in his own voice. "See if I…see if I even care."

He glared at Sirius, daring him, urging him on, but Sirius stood frozen. No one spoke. No one moved. After a few moments that stretched into an eternity, Sirius sank down onto Remus's bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he mumbled through his fingers. Remus couldn't find his voice, but Sirius didn't give him a chance to answer. He looked up, his face white, his voice shaking. "How could you not tell us? The four of us are supposed to be best friends and you've been lying to us since the day we met! Why? Why would you lie to us like this?"

Remus glanced at the other two. James was frozen halfway between his own bed and Remus's, a strange expression on his face. If anything, he looked…sad. Peter was quite clearly terrified.

Quickly wiping away the tears that had managed to escape, Remus took a deep breath and tried to settle his racing heart before speaking.

"What was I supposed to do? Meet my new roommates and say, 'Hi, I'm Remus and I turn into a hairy beast once a month?' I was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anyone. And my d-dad said… If anyone finds out, I'm gone."

"You still could've –" Sirius started, but Remus interrupted, determined now to say what he needed before he'd be packing his trunk. After all, this might be the last time he ever saw Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew.

"Do you think it was easy? I hated every minute of lying to you. I've been sick from the…from having to lie to you so much…every time I had to come up with a new story. You three are the only friends I've ever…ever had. But there wasn't another way for me, and _I'm sorry_. And it's over now, I g-get that, so if it's all right, I'd like to start packing my things in peace."

He moved toward his trunk, supporting himself again with his bed post, blinking back more threatening tears, but James's voice stopped him.

"What do you mean, pack your things?"

Remus looked up at him in confusion. James, though still standing in the middle of the room, put his hands casually in his pockets and gave Remus a curious look.

"Well I'm not going to be able to stay here anymore, am I? You know what I am. There's no way anyone'll want to go to class with a werewolf."

"Don't be a prat, we're not going to tell anyone about this," James said with a breathy chuckle and a roll of his eyes. He glanced toward Sirius and Peter and raised an eyebrow, almost in a challenge. "Are we?"

"Of course not," Sirius replied at once. "What kind of friends do you think we are?"

Remus looked between them, at a loss, and then for the first time, his dread was briefly overtaken by a touch of annoyance. "Oh, I don't know…the kind of friend who just pinned me against a wall and shoved his wand in my face?"

Sirius shrugged, unconcerned. "I wasn't mad that you're a werewolf, I was mad that you'd been lying to us. Still am, a little. I don't like liars."

"I didn't have a…a choice…" Remus's counter trailed off, though, when the full weight of Sirius's words penetrated his sluggish brain. "And…wait…what do you mean you're not mad that I'm a werewolf?"

"I mean, it's not as if you can help it. It's just a part of you that you don't like, but that you have to live with." Sirius paused and spun his wand a few times in his hand before adding, "Like me being a Black."

There was another great cheer of support from the Quidditch fans in the common room, and the noise seemed to fade in and out of Remus's ears as if it were badly tuned. It was as though his brain couldn't fathom their reactions and the rest of his body was trying to help it along. His heart rate quickened, his hands tingled, and after a few moments, his hearing pricked back into perfect clarity. They were not cursing him. They were not running away from him. They were not looking at him with revulsion. Could it be possible that he might be able to stay at Hogwarts? That he might not only get to keep his place in the school, but also keep his friends? That he wouldn't have to lie to them anymore? It seemed too much to hope for. He turned to Peter, who had not moved or spoken at all since Remus had entered the room.

"Peter?" he asked tentatively.

Peter started, his watery eyes flicking to James and Sirius and then back to Remus, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

"I…I…I don't…"

 _"Peter!"_ hissed James, as if scolding him for something.

Peter swallowed and seemed to solidify under James's gaze. When he spoke again, though, his voice was barely more than a squeak. "How'd it happen?"

The adrenaline borne of Sirius's initial aggression was beginning to wane, and Remus, unsure of how much longer his poor legs would bear his weight, sat down on the top of his trunk and swallowed hard. This was all happening so fast. But they deserved answers, at the very least. _They're not running away from you_. Bracing himself, he started telling them the story that he had never told anyone before.

"I was almost five when I…when it happened. It's not very…I mean, I don't remember a lot about the night itself, or the few weeks after, but I remember the day that lead up to it. Almost…almost too well. I had spent the afternoon in the back garden, playing with a few children who lived close by. It was snowing, and it was fresh, fluffy, playful snow. The kind that's good for making snowmen and snow forts." He sealed himself and glanced up at James, who had sunk down to sit on his own trunk across from Remus. Peter remained standing across the room, next to his own four-poster. Remus could not see Sirius, who was still presumably sitting on the bed behind him, but perhaps this was for the best. James and Peter's intent stares were enough to witness.

"I remember my mother calling me in and sitting by the fire before supper to warm up. I remember the stew she made that night, it was one of my favorites, with turkey and carrots and potatoes. I remember reading with my mum before bed."

"Did you –"

Remus cut James's question off. It was much easier to keep talking, now that he had started. Strangely, and despite the fact that he had never spoken these details to anyone in his life, the words spilled forth like the words of a song he had memorized years ago and only now remembered to recite.

"I remember bits and pieces of what happened next. The warmth of my bed and then the cold air when the window burst open. I remember my dad running in, and his…his screaming. I had never heard anyone scream like that before. There were a lot of flashes of light and my dad fought it – him, I mean – off. And I remember a lot of pain in my ribs…a burning pain, like my whole body was on fire. The pain didn't go away for weeks."

"It came in through your window?" whispered Peter, petrified.

"Y-yes. It broke it open trying to get to me." He paused, but no one had any response to this. "That's how it happened," he finished lamely, looking up at Peter. Peter took a deep breath and nodded, his beady eyes more watery than usual.

"What's it like?" James breathed, transfixed.

Remus wasn't exactly sure how to answer the question. "It's…painful. Really painful. I don't have any humans around to bite, so I bite and scratch myself."

"You bite and scratch _yourself_?"

"It's not something I do knowingly. I'm not in my right mind during the transformations. I'm not me, at least, I'm not conscious of being me. I usually can't remember much about after I've transformed. It's like my mind has…blocked it out…or something."

Peter looked close to tears. "Can't anyone do anything? Can't Dumbledore…"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "There's no cure. After…after it happened, my dad did everything he could to find a cure. Experimental potions and untested spells. He traveled a lot when he could, trying to find a cure in old Romanian lore and the writings of the ancient Egyptians. But there's nothing that anyone can do for me…not my dad, and not even Dumbledore."

"But Dumbledore knows, right?" James asked uncomfortably. "I mean, you said he made you promise not to tell. Who else knows?"

"Well, yes, Dumbledore knows. And some of the staff knows, our professors, because they needed to know why I miss so many lessons. But that's it. My parents didn't think there was ever a chance that I could come to Hogwarts because of what I am. But then Dumbledore let me in. He said that as long as we take precautions during the full moon, there shouldn't be any reason to keep me out of Hogwarts."

"Of course not," said Sirius, finally speaking from his spot behind Remus. "You're still you…still Remus."

At last, Remus turned to look back at him. Sirius was sitting in the middle of the bed, his legs crossed beneath him and his elbows on his knees. He looked like a young child at story time, but his face was serious, and his eyes were sad, and there was something else in his expression that Remus couldn't pinpoint.

"Thanks, Sirius," Remus said softly. He paused. "And I'm sorry I lied to you. To all of you."

James waved off the apology with an impatient hand. "Well now you don't have to anymore, so this – this discovery is a good thing. We can help cover for you when you have to leave. And we're not going to tell anybody your secret. We made a pact, remember?"

Remus barely dared to breathe. He felt as if he had run a great distance in the span of a few minutes. Another great roar of celebration rang out from the common room, and it was difficult, at that moment, to not join in. No more lies, no more cover stories.

They didn't understand – they could _never_ understand – how much their friendship meant to him.

"So what are the precautions?" Sirius asked.

Remus blinked at him. "What?"

"You said Dumbledore has taken precautions. So you don't go home every month, then? Where do you go?"

Dumbledore had made him promise to not tell anyone, but his friends had figured it out on their own. And they weren't running away from him. Remus swallowed. He had made a pact with them to never lie or keep secrets from each other, and now, finally, he could abide by that pact. He could be an equal in the group.

"Well," he started, "I'm really not supposed to tell anyone. But I guess since you, er, figured it out for yourselves…I go through a tunnel to a house on the edge of Hogsmeade to transform. The tunnel is underneath the Whomping Willow."

"The Willow?"

"But how do you get under the Willow without getting whomped?"

"Madam Pomfrey takes me every month. She knows how to freeze it."

"But how does she –"

James's question was cut off when the door opened abruptly and Goomer walked in. Peter squeaked and stumbled over his own trunk.

"Hello," Goomer greeted them, unaware that he had interrupted anything at all. "Bowman caught the Snitch."

"Did he?" James said weakly.

Goomer nodded and began changing into his pajamas. "Yep, took forever though, the match was over two hours. Puddlemere won 290 to 120, so they'll stay in first place as long as they beat the Wasps next month. I'm surprised you lot weren't down there listening…great match, it was."

"Er, yeah," said James. "I've a headache, you know, but I think I'll catch the replay tomorrow…"

"Too bad," Goomer said, pulling his head through his night shirt. "You know most of the upper years have brought their own wirelesses for the dorms, and I think the sixth years even have a record player…could be worth looking into, yeah?"

James gave a noncommittal reply and looked at Sirius, clearly trying to figure out how to continue their previous conversation without Goomer. He then hopped up from his perch on his trunk to move closer to Remus and Sirius. Peter, too, approached them.

"Anyone fancy a trip to the kitchens?" James said in a voice low enough that it wouldn't carry to Goomer.

"Absolutely," said Sirius pointedly.

"Yeah, good idea," agreed Peter.

Remus, though, was beginning to flag. "Actually, I think I'm going to go to bed too." The standard wear and tear of the full moon along with the tumult of emotions he had been barraged with over the last day had combined to thoroughly seep any energy he may have otherwise been able to muster. He didn't want them to think he was shutting them out, though, so he added, "We can go to the kitchens tomorrow, though, if you'd like."

James grinned. "Brilliant."

"We can leave you alone to rest, Remus," Peter said.

Remus smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

James and Peter both clapped him on the shoulder before leaving the dormitory. Sirius lingered behind, climbing off of Remus's bed, but hovering next to it somewhat awkwardly.

"Look," he whispered, pausing until Goomer had disappeared into the lavatory before continuing, "I'm sorry about earlier. How I…you know…" He gestured toward the wall and scratched his head as though uncomfortable.

"It's all right," Remus said. "You were right to be angry with me."

Sirius shook his head. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. But I'm glad you know that you can trust us now." He paused before adding, "We're not going to leave you behind, Remus."

Remus swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded, fixing his eyes to a spot somewhere over Sirius's left shoulder.

"Anyway, I'll see you in the morning." Sirius said. He disappeared down the dormitory steps.

Remus changed quickly out of his robes and crawled into bed, moving gingerly on his sore muscles. He made sure the curtains around his bed were completely closed and listened as Goomer reentered the room and settled into his own bed for the night. Remus waited a few minutes, his ears straining for any strange sounds before he shifted and allowed himself to do something he hadn't done in years. With a quick whispered, _"Lumos,"_ his four-poster became illuminated and bright, and Remus pulled up the hem of his shirt and studied the deep scar that ran across the right side of his ribcage. He could still make out a few teeth marks, and he moved his finger over each of them, allowing himself to remember that night, to remember the burning pain of the bite.

Pulling his shirt back into place, he lay back on his pillow, thinking of the reactions of his three friends. Gratitude spilled over him like hot lava. They still wanted to know him, to associate with him, to be friends with him. His father had been wrong to assume their reactions, but then again, his father did not know Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew. He could not possibly have known how wrong it was to underestimate them.

He had not had friends since he was four years old, since _before_ , and even those he could not remember clearly. And now he had three friends. Three of the best friends he could have ever imagined. What had he ever done to deserve them?

Remus drifted off to sleep soon after, a small smile on his lips, and for once, the voice in his head was not hissing his fears back at him, chanting about his own weaknesses, or reminding him that he was nothing but a monster.

Instead, the earnest voice in his head was none other than Sirius Black's.

 _"You're still you…still Remus. We're not going to leave you behind."_


	15. 2-5 or 'If It's the Last Thing We Do'

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This one makes me laugh and cry. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 15 - 2.5 or "If It's the Last Thing We Do"**

It was not uncommon, in the fitful, painful sleep that followed a full moon, for Remus to have strange, vivid dreams. Usually they were nonsensical, lurid flashes borne of an exhausted mind and body. But this one had been so real and so very, very wonderful. Remus lay in the bed in the hospital wing, refusing to open his eyes and face the reality of his situation. Waking up was his cue that it was time to face his friends. Rousing from such an indescribably wonderful dream was the alarm bell that preceded his own demise. And so he allowed himself an extra minute to revel in the dream's waning comfort before he cracked open his eyes.

He blinked up at a red canopy. _Red_ , not white. He was not in the hospital wing. He was in his own bed in Gryffindor Tower. Which meant…

"Morning, Sunshine."

Remus turned over and found that one side of his red curtains had been drawn back to show Sirius lounging on the bed next to him, a bright grin on his face. It took a few moments and a few rubs of his eyes for Remus to collect his thoughts. He was in his dormitory, not the hospital wing. His muscles were still sore, though he was not in nearly as much pain as he was the day after the full moon. So the only explanation that fit, then, was that the wonderful, exhilarating, detailed dream he had had about his friends discovering his secret was actually…not a dream at all.

"How do you feel?" Sirius asked, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to face Remus straight on.

Remus pulled himself up to sit against his headboard, still blinking rapidly at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and at his own realization regarding his situation. How did he feel? He felt unbelievable, resplendent, grateful beyond measure, bloody _brilliant_ …

"Good," he said, squinting at Sirius through the sunlight. "What are you doing here? Where's everyone else? Did I oversleep? I've got to get to class –"

"No you don't," said Sirius easily. "It's Sunday, remember? And James and Peter should be back any minute…"

Remus pulled back the rest of his curtains to get a better view of the window. The fact that the sun was high in the sky and Sirius was fully dressed did not bode well.

"What time is it? I've missed breakfast, haven't I? Bother, why didn't you wake me?"

"Well," said Sirius, swinging his hanging legs back and forth, "we were going to, but then you looked so peaceful and _cute_ all cuddled up as you were…" Remus snorted and Sirius's grin only broadened. "…so we decided to let you sleep. But then we got back from breakfast and you were _still_ sleeping, so James checked right quick to make sure you weren't, you know, _dead_ or something, and then we had a rollicking game of Gobstones over on Peter's bed, but then James ducked when his stone squirted, and the gunk ended up on Peter's pillow…and you know that stuff stains, so Peter wasn't thrilled. I imagine the house elves won't be thrilled either, but they don't have to sleep with their nose pressed into that foul-smelling mess, do they? So anyway, Peter put an end to the Gobstones match, and you _still_ weren't awake yet, so –"

"Sirius," Remus cut in, and the boy in question stopped talking at once. "What time is it?"

Sirius craned his neck to get a view of the clock on the opposite side of the room. "About half-ten."

Remus sighed as his stomach gave an almighty rumble. "So I've missed breakfast."

"Perhaps," said Sirius. He tilted his head a few degrees, as though listening intently for something. There were voices on the staircase outside the dormitory, and Sirius's face brightened before he continued. "But that's the beauty of being on a first-name basis with a handful of the kitchen's finest house elves, isn't it?"

At this, the door to the dormitory opened and Peter and James strolled in, both laden with lumpy bags.

"You're awake!" said James, hurrying over and hopping onto the end of Remus's bed, where he began unpacking what appeared to be their own personal feast from his bag. "You slept so long, we thought you might have died."

"I was just…more tired than usual," Remus replied, eyeing the food with wonder. Peter, too, began unwrapping bacon and sausages and scones and waffles from bundles of napkins that he pulled out of his bag. "Did you…er, did you leave anything left in the kitchens?"

"We didn't know what you'd be hungry for," said James, swiping a piece of bacon from Peter's pile and popping it into his mouth. "So we brought some of everything."

"I think that house elf Queenie's taken a liking to us," said Peter, now setting a flagon of orange juice on Remus's bedside table. "She gave us extra sausages."

"And some melon, just for you Sirius," James said, throwing a slice of melon at Sirius, who dodged it and pulled a face.

"Y-you didn't have to do this," Remus said in amazement, but he could not suppress the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Rubbish," said James. "What else have we got to do on a Sunday morning?"

"Budge over, will you?" said Sirius, who had hopped off of his own bed and was now climbing up to sit against the headboard next to Remus. The bed was rather crowded now, as Peter too had pulled himself onto it, and with four boys and the large assortment of food, there was a real danger that something would be spilled, or else one of them might fall off. Remus, though, couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

"Anyway," James said, his mouth full of some sort of pastry, "the Puddlemere and Tornados match from last night is replaying at eleven, so we can listen in here."

He nodded toward a wireless set that now sat on his bedside table. Remus was fairly certain that it had not been there the night before.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Borrowed it from Jeremiah Peakes," James shrugged.

"Nicked it, more like," said Sirius. "Oi, Peter, throw me a waffle."

" _Borrowed_ it," repeated James. "I'm going to return it after the match, aren't I?"

"Is it considered _borrowing_ if you use the Invisibility Cloak to sneak into someone's dormitory and take something without their knowledge?"

"Just for a few hours! He won't even know it's gone."

"You're a right thief, you are. We're all going to have to start locking up our valuables."

"Your valuables, right. And what might those be? Your Dungbomb stash? The book on Muggle cars I gave you for Christmas?"

"Dear to my heart, that book is," said Sirius. "It taught me all about how e-gines work."

"E-gines?" Remus repeated, perplexed.

"Yes, e-gines. Those mad contraption things under the bonnet that run the car!"

Remus laughed. "You mean the engine?"

Sirius waved a dismissive hand. "You know what I meant."

"Yes, that book seems to have taught you so much," deadpanned James.

Sirius aimed a kick at him, but due to the crowdedness of the bed, he could not get much force behind it. The pair continued to poke fun at each other until eleven o'clock rolled around, at which point James flicked on the wireless to listen to the replay of the Quidditch match from the night before. Not overly interested in listening to a match that they already knew the outcome of, Sirius challenged Remus to a game of wizard's chess, and Peter alternated between cheering them on and reading his latest issue of _The Adventures of Dino Danger_. All in all, it was a rather quiet morning by the Marauders' standards, but Remus thought it very well may have been the best morning of his life.

* * *

"You will spend the evening alphabetizing the magical creatures section of the library. I will be back to check on your progress in two hours. If you have not sufficiently completed your task, you will both return here tomorrow evening until your work is complete. Now off you go."

Madam Pince gave Sirius and Gin one last scowl before shooing them away. As it was eight o'clock on a Friday night – and, more particularly, a Friday night before an inter-house Quidditch match – the library was entirely deserted. Not even the most diligent of O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. students would think to spend a mid-November evening such as this holed up in the school library. The two second years, being forced to do just that, made their way through the labyrinth of stacks toward a far corner section devoted to magical creatures, where towering shelves housed thousands of dusty books.

"She must be joking," muttered Sirius, craning his neck to take in the vast amount of tomes. "There's no way we can… I hate the ruddy library."

Gin approached the nearest shelf and examined the titles that sat at eye-level. "None of these are even remotely in order. This quite possibly might take…" She, too, craned her neck upward. "…er, forever?"

"I heard Filch and Pince talking earlier today. Apparently Peeves gets his jollies by sneaking in here and mixing all the titles up."

Sighing, Gin sat down on the floor and started pulling out all the books that she could reach.

Sirius's mind, though, was already three steps in front of her when he smirked casually and asked, "What are you doing?"

"We might as well get started. I know that you spend all your free time in detention, but I don't much fancy having to come back again tomorrow night."

He shook his head and strode forward to swipe the book she had been dislodging out of her hand. "Amateur."

"What are you doing?"

Tossing the book carelessly on the floor, he stuck his head around the nearest corner to ensure that Madam Pince had indeed disappeared. "I'll be right back," he whispered, slinking off and out of sight.

Gin ignored him and continued her task of emptying the lowest shelf. She might not have known what he was up to, but she wasn't going to sit around and wait for Sirius to get her into more trouble.

Sirius returned five minutes later, after Gin had cleared three shelves, clutching a book called _Achievements in Charming._

"More books for us to sort?" Gin asked, eyeing it with suspicion.

"Oh, Gin, you don't give me much credit. As you so correctly stated, I spend quite a lot of time in detention, so I've learned many loopholes. Pince, bless her, is an idiot. Not only did she leave us alone without supervision, but she never once said anything about not using magic."

He waved the book at her, the usual innocent expression on his face.

"You're full of it," Gin said, shaking her head. "No way there's a spell in there that –"

"Alphabetizes things?" Sirius opened the book to the page his finger had been marking and pointed to an alphabetizing charm. "You have so little faith in me."

Gin crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "All right, if you're so brilliant, let's see you learn it and be able to perform it in the next two hours."

In the end, it only took about twenty minutes for Sirius to make the entire section come alive, all of the books floating out of their slots on the shelves and rearranging themselves in the proper order.

"So," he said, rocking back on his heels, "have I convinced you of my brilliance yet?"

Gin seemed to be fighting a smile as she watched the books perform the work that they were supposed to be doing. "No, but you've convinced me of your arrogance."

"Hey, even you have to admit that this beats doing it ourselves."

"True," she acknowledged. "But what are we going to do for the next hour and a half?"

Sirius shrugged and wandered toward the end of the row, glancing at the books that had already been sorted into their proper places. He was just about to turn back when a particularly old book caught his eye. Curious, he grabbed it off the shelf and looked down at the worn title: _Deconstructing the Curse of the Werewolf._ He glanced over to where Gin sat, but she wasn't paying him any attention, so he flipped to the middle of the book and began to read:

 _"The legend of the werewolves' powers extends as far back as the records show. For decades, researchers in the Department of Mysteries have been trying to uncover the magic that transfers this horrific curse from beast to human. Humans are, of course, the natural enemy of a fully transformed werewolf. The power to turn one species to another simply through a bite is unique to the relationship between a werewolf and a human. No other known species has this power and, likewise, werewolves are a danger to no species other than humans."_

Sirius closed the book and returned it to the shelf, frowning. He didn't want Gin to get curious about why he was looking into werewolves, so he wandered away from that section, scanning the titles on the shelves but not really seeing them at all. After the dramatic discovery of Remus's secret, he, James, and Peter had discussed many times how to help their friend, but to no avail. There really was no cure for a werewolf, but the uselessness that he felt was uncomfortable for Sirius. He didn't like just sitting around and doing nothing while his friend suffered.

After a while, he went and sat down against the wall next to Gin, who was reading a beat-up old copy of something and didn't acknowledge him. A part of him wished that James were sitting next to him instead of Gin – he and James would certainly spend the time devising new ways to wreak havoc upon the school – but then he looked over at her and noticed the way she was mindlessly spinning her wand in one hand and the way one of her curls had come loose from where she had tied her hair back. He decided he was quite glad to be sitting there with her after all.

Unfortunately, she did not seem to share the sentiment. In fact, she was so completely absorbed in her book that he thought she might not have even been aware of his presence.

"What are you reading?" he asked, though he realized the stupidity of his question as soon as it passed his lips. The cover of the book, after all, was pointed directly at him. In response, she lifted it a bit to give him a better view, and then lowered it back to her knees to continue her reading. " _Peter and Wendy_? Sounds dead boring."

"It's not," she said without taking her eyes from the pages below her. "It's one of my favorites."

"You've read it before, then?" She nodded, and Sirius again looked at the cover of the book. "Wait a tick – that's not a library book." Again, only a nod in response. "You brought a book with you to your _detention?_ " Again, only a nod. "You brought a book with you to your _detention in the library?_ " he pressed, amusedly appalled.

"It was in my bag," she said, indicating the bag that sat on the other side of her. "I bring a book with me everywhere."

"Why?"

"In case I feel like reading it."

And then she went back to reading it. A minute or two passed, and Sirius's leg began bouncing up and down in boredom.

"We should play a game," he said.

She looked up at him. "A game?"

"To pass the time."

"What kind of game?"

This, he had not considered. He quickly scanned his options. "Hide and seek?" She snorted, and he could not blame her. "No, you're right. How about…how about we each get five minutes to search for the book with the dirtiest word we can find in it. Whoever finds the better word gets a point and then we go again." She only looked at him for a beat before returning to her book. Sirius sighed. "No game, then."

The minutes ticked by in silence. Again, he wished for James.

"Will you stop that?" she said suddenly, just as Sirius was about to get up to go wander out of sheer boredom.

"Stop what?"

"That leg bouncing thing you're doing."

"Oh. Why?"

"It's distracting me."

He grinned at her. "Good. You're boring when you're reading."

Sighing, she closed her book and set it on the ground next to her, clearly resigned to the fate of being distracted for the next hour. No sooner had she done this, though, that the thought occurred to Sirius that he really did not know what to say to her.

"Are you going to the Quidditch match tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose so, if the weather's nice. Who are we playing, do you know?"

"Ravenclaw," Sirius said, leaning his head against the wall and observing the motion of the floating books in front of him with pride. "James won't stop prattling on about it."

"Is he on the team, then?" she asked.

"Yes, he made Chaser. Didn't you know?"

Gin shrugged. "I don't pay it much attention, I guess."

They fell into silence and she again reached for her book, but Sirius leaned over and grabbed it up before she could get her hand on it.

"What's it about, anyway, if it's not dead boring?" he asked, flipping idly through the pages.

"A boy."

"A boy?"

"Mhmm."

"Let me guess, his name is Peter?"

"Mhmm."

"And there's a girl named Wendy?"

"Mhmm."

"Fascinating, that."

She smiled at his sarcasm. "Peter lives in a place called Neverland, where he doesn't ever have to grow up. And he has lots of adventures with his friends…and he can fly…"

"He's got a broom?"

"No, he can fly without a broom. And he's got a fairy friend called Tinkerbell and when she sprinkles her dust on people then they can fly without a broom, too."

"Well that's just ridiculous," Sirius scoffed, but he didn't put up a fight when she reached across him to grab her book back. It looked like she was about to become absorbed in it once again, so he changed the subject. "Have you finished that essay for McGonagall?"

He winced. _Homework._ He was talking to her about _homework._

"Hm?" she said distractedly, and then with a patient expression she set the book down again. "No, I haven't even started it yet. I reckon I'll have to do it this weekend."

"Yeah, me too."

There was a pause before she said, "I don't much like Transfiguration."

"Really?"

"No, I'm not very good at it."

"I'm great at it."

"Well bully for you."

"What do you like, then, if not Transfiguration?"

"I like Defense Against the Dark Arts." She hesitated. "Well, I did last year at least. I don't like it the way Philpott teaches."

Sirius snorted. "No one likes it the way that git teaches it."

"Adin's convinced that he was the fat kid growing up, and that's why he hates everyone the way he does."

"Yeah, I can see that. I bet he got beat up loads in school. He was hexed every day, at least."

"Well even if that's true, it doesn't excuse the way he acts."

"We can't figure out what Dumbledore was thinking when he hired him," Sirius said. "I guess Dumbledore's always been a bit off his rocker though."

Gin shifted against the wall to get more comfortable, pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged, and her knee brushed lightly against his. He wondered if she even noticed the contact, but suddenly his knee felt very tingly.

"I heard the Defense job is cursed," she said. "No one has lasted for more than a year in forever."

"Well I hope _that's_ true. That'd mean we only have to suffer through Philpott until June."

"It's an important subject, though, Defense Against the Dark Arts," Gin said quietly. "Particularly now, with all these weird things happening."

"What weird things? Besides those nutters killing Muggles, I mean."

Gin looked at him as if trying to determine if he was joking or not.

"There's been other things than the Muggle killings. Weird things mentioned in…do you ever read the _Prophet_?"

"No, I don't have a subscription. Why?"

"I don't either, but I'll look at the copy in the common room in the evenings and…there's just been all sorts of strange things recently. Disappearances, unexplained deaths. That sort of thing."

"Really?"

Gin nodded, her brow furrowed. "My mum's been worried about it, when I've asked her. Because she's a Muggle-born, I guess. She'd be cross if she found out I jinxed a Slytherin."

"She likes the Slytherins?" asked Sirius, confused.

"No, but she keeps telling me to keep my head down, to not draw attention to myself. She won't really explain why, though, or what it has to do with what's in the _Prophet_."

She was gazing down at her fingers and Sirius used the moment to steal a long glance at her. They were sitting very close together, their shoulders almost touching and their backs against the wall. As usual, her expression was unreadable. Sirius couldn't decide if he liked this about her or not.

"What Wilkes did to Mary was sick," he said. "There's nothing wrong with defending your friend."

"Says the guy who jinxes Slytherins every chance he gets."

"Well someone's got to."

"Yes, and you and James seem to have it covered without my help."

She was really very pretty, he thought. He had known this before, of course, but he had never been quite so close to her as he was now. She turned and looked at him. He had never noticed how blue her eyes were.

"What?" she asked, noticing his strange expression.

Without pausing to think, Sirius leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He had a quick glimpse of the shock on her face before he realized he was supposed to close his eyes. After a second, Gin pulled away from him, her eyes round and her cheeks pink.

He didn't know what had made him do it. If he had stopped to think, he certainly wouldn't have had the nerve. Now though, he was feeling quite warm all over, as a mixture of embarrassment and excitement overtook him. He had never kissed a girl before.

"Sorry," he said quickly, though he wasn't actually sorry. He looked away from her, noticing for the first time that the books had finished sorting themselves.

"Why did you do that?"

He glanced back at her. She didn't look angry, only slightly confused. He shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt like it."

"Oh." She paused awkwardly. "Well that was nice of you."

His heart was beating rather quickly now and his fingers felt funny – tingly and fatter than usual. "Can I do it again?"

She glanced around at the bookshelves nervously. Her cheeks were still pink. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but in reality was only a second, she looked at him and shrugged. "Okay."

Heart beating so loudly he was surprised she couldn't hear it, he leaned in again. He tried to be a bit gentler this time. Her lips were very soft and she smelled quite nice. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his hands, so he just left them in his lap.

After a few moments, he pulled back and grinned at her. She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Is this what you do in all your detentions?"

"Well I sit most of my detentions with James."

"So…yes, then?"

"Ha ha," he said, frowning. "No, I've never kissed anyone before."

He hadn't meant to say it...the words had slipped out before he thought them through. She stopped laughing and looked at him, her expression as inscrutable as ever. He wished she would quit looking at him like that.

"Me either," she said.

He smiled at her, trying not to show the relief he felt at her words.

* * *

"What's gotten into you?"

Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus were sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table early the next morning. The first Quidditch match of the season – and of James's career – would be taking place later that morning, and James had woken them all up very early in his excitement.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked quickly.

Remus stared at him. "I mean you keep looking over at the door every five seconds."

"Oh," Sirius said, busying himself with the eggs on his plate. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Something in Sirius's voice tugged James out of his daydream (in which he had scored 19 goals and was asked to play Chaser for England). Sirius was wearing the same innocent expression he usually pulled to try and get them out of detention. James exchanged a look with Remus and Peter.

"Well?" he said.

Sirius looked up at him, surprised. "Well what?"

"Why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not acting weird."

"Oh don't give me that look, I'm not McGonagall. Do I need to offer you some fruit again to make sure your body hasn't been invaded during the night?"

"No, that's not –"

"Wait… no, he was acting weird last night, too," cut in Peter, frowning a bit in concentration.

"Oh yeah! That's right…he got back from detention and didn't even want to challenge those firsties to Exploding Snap…"

"I was tired!"

"Tired! Ha!"

"You're right, Peter, he said he was tired and then he went straight to bed…"

"On a Friday night, no less…"

All three of James, Remus, and Peter looked expectantly at Sirius, who grimaced, clearly undergoing some sort of emotional battle before sighing, resigned. He swiveled his head to check that no one was near, before leaning in over the table, closer to the others, who followed suit.

"You can't tell anyone, all right?"

"Of course."

"No, I'm being serious. You can't tell."

"We won't tell!"

"We promise!"

"What is it?"

Sirius glanced around again, but there was no one within earshot of them. "Gin Leigh and I had detention with Pince last night."

"Yeah, we know. Apparently it was knackering. So what?"

"Did you dare Gin to steal Pince's knickers or something?"

"I kissed her!"

Peter choked on a kipper. "You kissed Pince?"

"No, you idiot, I kissed Gin!"

"Why would you do that?"

Sirius leaned back and shrugged, but looked rather pleased with himself. "Why not?"

James stared at his best friend, amazed. Sirius had kissed a girl? He had never thought of Gin like that before…he supposed she was quite good looking…

"So what was it like?"

Sirius considered this for a moment and then grinned. "I dunno…it was good."

Remus lowered his eyebrows in confusion. "So is she your girlfriend now?"

"What?" Sirius yelped.

"Well you kissed her, so does that mean she's your girlfriend?"

Sirius looked positively alarmed. "No! I don't want any girlfriend. I just did it because, I don't know, I felt like it…and she was sitting right there…"

Remus snorted and turned back to his porridge. "Charming."

James started laughing, which earned him a glare from his best friend. "What's so funny?"

"I can't wait to take the mickey out of her!" James said, looking around hopefully to see if Gin had come down to breakfast yet.

"Don't you dare," said Sirius, as Peter and Remus joined in on James's laughter. "You promised! You all promised you wouldn't say anything!"

James sobered when he caught sight of Sirius's pleading expression. "Oh, okay, fine. We won't say anything. I never knew you to be so sensitive, Lover Lips."

Remus and Peter continued laughing as Sirius gave an almighty shove to James's shoulder and sent him sprawling to the ground. James shot them all an unappreciative hand gesture from his position on the cold, hard stone, which only solicited a smirk from Sirius and more laughter from the others.

"Stop trying to injure my Chaser before the match even begins, Black!" said a voice from behind them. James grinned up at Fiona Beal, his Quidditch Captain, and the rest of the Gryffindor team who had apparently all come down to breakfast together. He sprung up off the floor and took his seat next to them.

"Will do, Beal, if you tell him to stop being such a smarmy git," said Sirius, munching happily on some bacon.

"How are you feeling, Potter?" asked Jeremiah Peakes, a fifth-year Beater, as he began piling eggs onto his plate.

"Great!" said James. "I can't wait! We're going to trounce Ravenclaw!"

"That's the spirit," said Fiona.

"He certainly doesn't have a problem with his confidence, does he?" laughed Susanna O'Shea.

"Why should I?" James asked. "We're a great team! There's a better chance that the Cannons win the league this year than there is of us losing today."

The rest of the team shook their heads with different levels of amusement at James's excitement; indeed, a few of the younger players looked rather too ill to find anything amusing at that moment. As the Great Hall filled up and more and more Gryffindors stopped by to wish the team good luck, James began feeling the first stirs of nervousness in his stomach. Almost as though from a different life, he remembered the hours of practicing in the back garden with his dad, the pick-up matches he had got in on with the Bones brothers and their assorted friends, the dreams of professional Quidditch that had been fostered at the Wimbourne Wasps matches his grandfather used to take him to. His very first Quidditch match…he had been waiting for this moment for years.

"Psst," whispered Peter, snapping James out of his reverie for the second time that morning. "Look, there's Gin."

All four boys turned and looked to the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, where Gin was sitting down to breakfast next to Lily and Mary.

"Well she doesn't look any different," James noted.

"What, did you expect her to have a great blinking sign on her forehead or something?" snapped Sirius.

"So you're not going to go talk to her, Sirius?" Remus asked.

"No," said Sirius lightly. "I don't have anything to say to her."

Remus looked like he was going to comment on this, but at that moment Fiona rose from the table. "Team, to the locker room now, if you will."

James could feel the eyes of hundreds of students on him as he stood up with the other members of the team. He suddenly wished he had not eaten so much breakfast – it was wriggling around uncomfortably in his stomach.

"Good luck, James!" Peter said.

"Good luck," echoed Remus.

"You'll be brilliant," said Sirius, clapping James on the shoulder.

Grinning through his nerves, James walked with his team through the Great Hall. As he passed the end of the Gryffindor table, Lily, Gin, and Mary all smiled at him and wished him luck. He made his way in to the entrance hall with an extra spring in his step.

James had never given much thought to girls before. Most of his free time and energy had gone toward planning new adventures and plotting new schemes with his friends. Although he would never admit it to anyone, the idea of Sirius going around kissing girls was slightly unsettling to him. He felt ruffled in much the same way he had felt the previous year, when he had witnessed Stuart Bones kissing Bayle Kamana in an abandoned classroom. It was a foreign concept to him, but also exciting. He tried to think of a girl at Hogwarts who he would want to kiss, but by the time the team had made it to the changing rooms, he still hadn't settled on any girl in particular. And then he mentally scolded himself – why was he thinking about girls at a time like this? He need to focus all of his attention on the upcoming Quidditch match.

The roar of the crowd as Gryffindor stepped onto the pitch was deafening. James couldn't remember his heart ever beating so fast. The thrill of an impending prank had nothing on this. He watched as Fiona shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain and through the tumultuous shouts and applause of the crowd, he vaguely heard Madam Hooch's voice.

"Mount your brooms…on my whistle…three…two…one…"

James soared into the air, the wind whistling in his ears, and swooped in to grab the Quaffle right out from between two Ravenclaw Chasers.

"And Gryffindor takes first possession," said the magically magnified voice of Davey Gudgeon, who was commentator for the match. "Potter streaks toward the hoops – look at the speed on this kid – lobs the Quaffle to Beal, who drops down to avoid the Ravenclaw defensive line."

James's concentration was focused solely on the play they were running, and he knew Garrison Walker would be crossing his path at any moment…

"…Walker short-screens Potter, and Ravenclaw Chaser Brown falls for the fake, chases after Walker…oof, not too bright for a Ravenclaw, is he?"

A chorus of boos from the blue-clad section followed this comment, but it was soon drowned out by Davey's excited shouts.

"Beal passes to the suddenly wide-open Potter…Potter shoots…POTTER SCORES! Gryffindor leads ten to zero! Nifty little shot there by the second-year Chaser…"

James's heart seemed to swell in euphoria as he raced back down the pitch, the screams of the Gryffindor supporters ringing in his ears. He had scored a goal! He chanced a glance at the stands, where he could see Sirius, Remus, and Peter cheering for him. This was better than anything he could have imagined…better than sneaking out to Hogsmeade or pranking the Slytherins…

Fiona had somehow taken back possession of the Quaffle, so James sped to meet her halfway down the pitch, swooping above her just in time to catch the arcing ball. A whistling in his ears signaled a Bludger hot on his trail, so he cut toward Jeremiah Peakes, who was waiting with his Beater's club cocked and ready. Garrison Walker crossed in front of James once more, but this time James tossed the Quaffle at him, and Garrison shot it easily through the left-most goal. James whooped…nothing could stop them now…

Twenty minutes later, Gryffindor was leading seventy points to ten, James having scored three of the seven goals. He had just dived in on a dropped Quaffle when there was a loud roar from the crowd that could only mean one thing…

"Go, Susanna, go!" murmured James, as the two Seekers streaked across the pitch, racing after the tiny glint of gold that circled the far goal post…

"AND SUSANNA O'SHEA CATCHES THE SNITCH!" yelled Gudgeon over the screaming of the crowd. "GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

And as the Gryffindor team came together in a hugging, sweating, celebratory mass, the peculiar thought crossed James's mind that, at that exact moment, if forced to kiss any girl in the entire school, he very well would have chosen Susanna O'Shea.

* * *

Several weeks later, James's elation at at the outcome of his first Quidditch match had barely started to abate. Gryffindors of all ages continued to stop him in the common room or the corridors to congratulate him on such a stellar performance during his first outing. Only one thing was finally able to break through his cloud of euphoria – the full moon.

Up in their dormitory, James waited with Sirius, Peter, and Remus, anticipating the moment when Remus would have to leave their peaceful sanctuary to brave his transformation. James paced. Sirius tapped his wand against his knee impatiently. Peter fumbled with his own fingers. Remus sat stoic and still, the only one of them who was used to the torment of awaiting the inevitable. Nevertheless, he looked disturbingly pale and weary.

"How much longer is it?" Sirius asked, breaking several minutes of restless silence.

Remus glanced at the clock that stood by the door. "I need to leave to meet Madam Pomfrey in about ten minutes."

They lapsed into silence once more. James's stomach churned. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"And there's nothing anyone can do? Maybe Dumbledore…" he started, but Remus shook his head.

"Dumbledore can't help me. There's no cure, I promise." His shoulders sagged and he wrung his hands together nervously, the first movement he had made in a quarter of an hour. "Look, can we talk about something else? Sitting here like this is driving me mad."

James, realizing that perhaps his pacing around the dormitory wasn't particularly calming for his friend, sat down next to Sirius and wracked his brain for something else to talk about.

"So have you ever talked to Gin, Sirius?" Peter asked.

Sirius blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean have you talked to her? After, you know…" Peter started making kissing faces. James laughed and even Remus chuckled a little.

"Of course I've talked to her. She's still my Potions partner, isn't she?" Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but outside of Potions, you both act like the other one doesn't even exist!" James said.

"Well what am I supposed to say to her, exactly?"

"Hey Gin, let's head to the library for another snog?" James sniggered.

Sirius whacked him in the face with a pillow as Peter and Remus laughed. "Very helpful. Thanks a lot."

"Anytime," James said, straightening his glasses.

"She's been ignoring me just as much, I might add," Sirius said. "Why should I be the one to talk to her?"

"Do you like her?" asked James.

"Like her?" Sirius repeated blankly.

"You know…do you _like her_ like her?"

"Oh. Well…I don't know really."

"So you kissed her but you don't fancy her?" asked Remus.

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "Well, I mean…she's pretty I guess…"

"There are lots of pretty girls, though," said Peter. "Are you going to go round kissing all of them?"

Sirius grinned. "Maybe."

They all laughed, though James couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"I should probably be leaving," Remus said softly, after the laughter had died down.

"We can walk with you," offered Sirius.

"No, you shouldn't. I always go down on my own. It'd look suspicious if you all came with me this time."

James nodded. "Isn't there anything we can do for you?"

"No," Remus said, pulling himself to his feet. "But thank you – all of you – for being here and waiting with me. It's made it so much easier. Knowing that you know…that I don't have to lie to you anymore…it's already been the best full moon I've ever had."

On shaking legs, Remus crossed to the door. James had a sudden, desperate urge to try and stop him, to keep him from walking through that door, as if that would keep the transformation at bay, as if their presence could somehow overpower the terrible curse he carried. But, in the end, he knew there was nothing that could stop the moon from rising, and there was nothing he could do to ease his friend's torture. Remus paused in the doorway and looked around at all of them again, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"See you all tomorrow night, then."

Once he was gone, James turned to Peter and Sirius, both who looked just as miserable as he felt.

"We have to do something," Sirius said.

"You heard Remus," said Peter. "There's nothing we can do to help."

But this, James realized suddenly, was not strictly true. "We can go with him!" The words were out of his mouth before the thought had even fully formed in his mind.

"What?"

James had already jumped up and started digging through his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak.

"He just said…just now…that it helped him to have us sitting with him beforehand. We can't help him during the actual transformation, but we can go with him under the Willow and keep him company until it happens, at least!"

"Brilliant!" said Sirius, springing up as James's fingers finally closed around the recognizable, slippery cloth of the cloak.

"You want us to follow a werewolf to his transformation?" squeaked Peter, his round eyes on the cloak, which James was now shaking out.

"We'll get out of there before he transforms," said James, waving an unconcerned hand as if he did this sort of thing every day. "It's no big deal."

Sirius was waiting impatiently by the door. "We've got to get a shift on. We don't know how to get under the Willow. We'll have to follow Remus and Pomfrey."

James bounded over to join him, shoving the cloak in his pocket for the time being. They would be able to cover themselves once they were in the corridor. He turned back to Peter, who was still sitting on his bed, twisting his hands nervously.

"Come on, Peter!"

"I dunno…I mean, it sounds awfully dangerous…"

"Fine," Sirius snapped. "You stay here. We're going to help Remus."

He and James were halfway out the door when Peter hurried over to join them. "Okay, okay, I'll come with you!"

"Excellent," said James. "Let's go."

The three boys, now concealed by the Invisibility Cloak, caught up to Remus just as he was making his way into the hospital wing. They waited silently for him to reemerge with Madam Pomfrey at his side. James didn't think he had ever been as quiet as he was while they walked across the grounds toward the Whomping Willow. He glanced up at the sky. There was no sign of the moon yet, though the twilight was approaching with every minute.

They watched as Madam Pomfrey picked up a long stick from the grass and used it to poke at the base of the tree. At once, the thrashing branches became still.

"How'd she do that?" Sirius whispered.

"She just…poked it," muttered James. Remus and Pomfrey had both slipped under a gap at the roots of the tree and had disappeared from view. "Come on, before the tree starts moving again."

As one, the boys clambered to the tree and into a hole that was camouflaged in its roots. It was not easy to do while trying to stay hidden under the cloak, and they landed ungracefully in a heap in what appeared to be a dark, earthen tunnel. James staggered to his feet, offering Peter a hand and shifting the cloak back around them all. In the distance, he could see the light from Pomfrey's wand as she guided Remus through the tunnel.

"Come on," he said, motioning them to start walking.

They walked for what felt like an unreasonably long time. The tunnel was low and cramped. Worrying that Pomfrey might come back their way at any moment and run into them, James picked up the pace. They had to make it there for Remus. It was the only way he knew how to help.

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel started to rise and a grey patch of light came into view. Making sure that all of their limbs were sufficiently covered by the cloak, the boys crawled through a small opening and into a decrepit house. Muffled voices could be heard from somewhere on the floor above them.

"Let's stay here until Pomfrey leaves," whispered Sirius. "We might give ourselves away if we go upstairs."

They only had to wait a few minutes until Madam Pomfrey came down the stairs. She glanced around the seemingly empty room with a heavy sigh before ducking and disappearing through the tunnel. After waiting an additional minute to ensure that she was really gone, James pulled the cloak from their heads.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, unsure of why he was still whispering.

They climbed the staircase silently and pushed open the first door that they came to in the corridor. Remus, who had been sitting on the edge of a large bed with his head in his hands, jumped violently when they entered the room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, eyes wide.

"We came to be with you!" James said, smiling at the brilliance of his plan. "So that you don't have to be alone before the transformation!"

"No no no no," Remus said, visibly shaking. "You can't be here! I only have a few minutes left. You have to leave!"

"We'll leave when you transform." Sirius crossed the room to sit on the bed next to Remus, who jumped up at once, as if the other boy's presence had scalded him somehow. Peter went and sat down in his place.

"You don't understand! You have to leave! It can make it start sooner…if I get too worked up…it can happen any minute!" Remus looked terrified, beside himself.

"Remus," James said, startled by his friend's reaction, "calm down, mate."

But Remus did not calm down. He grabbed the doorpost to steady himself. "No. Please. Please leave."

James glanced at Sirius, who was staring at Remus with a frown of concern. Peter sat next to him, still twisting his hands together nervously.

"Okay," conceded James, swallowing hard. "Okay, well we'll go then, if it's upsetting you so much."

Remus looked like he barely had the strength to stay on his feet. He was holding onto the doorpost as if it were his lifeline.

"Go," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Then, with a terrible moaning noise, Remus collapsed in the doorway, shaking uncontrollably. James sprang forward to grab him, but by the time he had reached him, Remus was beyond help. His eyes had rolled back in his head and a frothy white foam started pouring from his mouth. James watched, horrified, as coarse brown fur began sprouting all over his friend's body. A terrible noise was coming from Remus's chest – a mix between a scream and a growl – and was mingling with the gruesome sound of hundreds of snapping bones.

James again reached for Remus, not even realizing what he was doing, when he felt hands on his chest, pulling him backwards. He fell over on top of Sirius, who scrambled up immediately and slammed the door of the bedroom, sliding an iron deadbolt into place and blocking out the terrible sight of the wolf in the hallway but unable to block out the sounds coming from him.

"No," croaked James, getting to his feet and trying to get back to the door, but Sirius pushed him away. "No, it's Remus – we have to help Remus!"

"James," said Sirius, who was very white, "we can't go out there. He'll…he's not Remus anymore. He'll kill you."

James reached up and gripped his hair in frustration, staring horrified at the door that blocked the wolf from them. The sounds coming from the hallway were horrible…he had never heard any creature moan in agony like that. He felt like he was going to be sick. Remus…poor Remus…

And then the moaning stopped. There was silence on the other side of the door. Sirius was staring at it, breathing heavily, his wand pointed steadily in front of him. Peter was standing in the far corner of the room, tears streaming down his face.

"What are we going to do?" Peter whispered, his voice much higher than usual. "What are we going to do? He'll kill us! He'll kill us! How are we going to get out?"

"Shut up!" hissed Sirius, his eyes still glued on the door. He seemed to be thinking very quickly. "What was…something like…like _Col…collatorpus…_ " He scrunched his eyes closed tightly in frustration and then opened them at once, his face triumphant as he remembered the spell. _"Colloportus!"_

There was a soft squelching noise as the door sealed shut, but Sirius did not lower his wand, evidently not entirely confident that the spell would hold against a werewolf.

"What did you –"

"Shh! Listen!'

New noises could now be heard from the hallway…scuffling noises, as if something heavy were getting to its feet. James thought he could discern the sound of sharp claws clattering against the wooden floors. He glanced at Sirius and then he, too, took out his wand as quietly as possible, hardly daring to breathe.

There was a beat of silence, a growl, and then BANG…a sickening thud against the door. Peter squeaked and slid to the floor in terror. BANG. The werewolf once again threw himself bodily into the other side of the door, trying to get to the three boys holed up in the bedroom. BANG.

"He can smell us," whispered Sirius, his voice shaking.

And then a piercing, bone-rattling howl tore through the air, and both James and Sirius scampered across the room to the far wall, all three of the boys pressing their backs against the wood paneling as if hoping it would swallow them up, as if putting the large bed between the wolf and themselves would make any difference whatsoever. The howl came to a chilling end, though the sound of it vibrated in James's ears even as another BANG echoed through the room.

The snarling and growling coming from the hallway now was terrible. The wolf continued to hurl his body into the door, but either due to Sirius's spell or others that had been put on it previously, the door wasn't giving way. It seemed to go on for hours. Once the initial shockwaves of fear had marginally diminished, all James could think about was what Remus was going through, continuously throwing his body at the wooden door, again and again. After a while, when they realized the wolf wouldn't be able to break through to get to them, Sirius, too, slid down to sit on the floor, looking very sick. None of them spoke. None of them even looked at each other. All of their thoughts were on Remus, out in the hallway, hurting himself again and again.

It was the longest night of James's life.

The noises became less frightening at some point through the night – the growling and snarling and digging had turned into pitiful whimpering – though they did not become less terrible. James could feel the guilt rising up in him like bile. It was his fault that they were there, all his fault that the wolf could smell the humans and was torturing himself to get to them. He had been trying to help his friend, but he had only made it so much worse. What could he ever do to make it up to him, to make it right?

There was a small, high window on the wall above them, and through it, he noticed the black sky become an inky purple, then a deep lilac. He listened hard, but the hallway was now silent. James glanced at Sirius, who was huddled up against the wall with his head buried in his arms, and at Peter, who looked dazed, his eyes swollen and red. He was about to speak when he heard something in the hallway…it was a shuffling noise, and then more snapping sounds. Horrified, James realized that Remus's bones were breaking again. He was transforming back. Sirius and Peter both looked up.

"Should we go out there?" Peter whispered.

"Give it a minute," James said. His voice cracked from lack of use. "We have to make sure he's completely back to being Remus."

They all stood up and huddled around the door, straining their ears for any sign that the wolf was completely gone. The hallway was once again silent. With a shaking hand, Sirius pointed his wand at the door handle and muttered, _"Alohomora."_ When he slid the iron lock aside, the clang of the metal echoed throughout the silent house like a blast of cannon fire. Sirius paused for a moment, listening hard once more, before opening the door a crack. A second later, he gasped and threw the door wide open.

The sight that met his eyes made James clutch at the wall for support. Remus was curled up at the top of the staircase, unconscious. There was blood – a lot of it – though James couldn't tell from where it was stemming. One of his arms was bent at an odd angle, clearly broken. His face was bruised and so swollen it looked barely recognizable. Bits of shredded black fabric littered the hallway and James stared at them until his mind sluggishly realized that they were what was left of his friend's school robes.

"Remus," he whispered, as he, Sirius, and Peter hurried over to their friend. "Remus, can you hear me?"

Sirius leaned down close to Remus's bruised face. "He's breathing."

Relief unlike anything James had ever felt flooded through him at this declaration. He stared down at his battered friend and inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to tame the prickling behind his glasses. Remus looked frighteningly pale, and the pool of blood that was blooming across the floorboards dwarfed his bare body.

"What should we do?" asked Peter. "Should we go get someone?"

"His fingernails are gone," said James without thought.

"What?"

"His fingernails." James pointed at the tips of his friend's fingers, at the torn, ravished, bloody nubs. He swayed slightly and wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "He dug so much at the floor trying to get to us that he tore his fingernails off." He vaguely recognized the weight of a hand gripping his shoulder, but whether it belonged to Sirius or Peter, James did not know. It was as though he was looking through a long tunnel, with only the sight of Remus's gruesome body in the halo of light at the end. "Do you think he's cold? Should we cover him?"

"There's blankets in the bedroom," Peter said in a small voice.

"No, shh, listen," said Sirius, standing up straight. The weight from James's shoulder lifted, and he could hear soft noises coming from the floor below. Someone was coming, but still James did not move. "Quick!" Sirius whispered, pulling at James's elbow with almost painful force. "The cloak! Get the cloak on!"

Without conscious thought, without even realizing that he had moved, James found himself huddled in the opposite end of the corridor. Sirius threw the cloak over their heads only a few moments before Madam Pomfrey appeared at the top of the stairs.

She stopped as she caught sight of Remus's body, sighed and made her way over to him, covering him in a spare cloak and pulling out her wand. Her reaction suggested that Remus's condition was not too much worse than how she usually found him. James didn't know whether this was a good or bad thing, though he relaxed a bit as he watched the matron begin to murmur healing spells. They were unusual spells – certainly not ones James had ever heard his mother use – and she whispered them with a fierce confidence and distilled patience. After nearly a quarter of an hour, she levitated Remus's still unconscious body down the stairs and into the tunnel.

James had no recollection of leaving the house, sneaking through the tunnel, or making his way back up to Gryffindor Tower. His thoughts were too focused on what he had witnessed, on the things he had seen and had heard. The common room was empty. They had over an hour before students would start emerging, bright-eyed and hungry for breakfast. He looked at Sirius and Peter.

"We've got to find a way to help him."

He didn't know how or where the strength in his voice was coming from. He had never been as sure of anything in his life as he was about helping Remus.

"How?" said Peter, and for once he didn't look scared, but frightfully sad. His eyes were bloodshot and his round face ashen. "How are we going to help him when there's no cure?"

Sirius looked just as resolute as James felt. He had a steely glint in his eye that James had never seen before. "We'll find a way. We'll find a way to make it easier for him, even if we can't cure him. This is Remus we're talking about. We'll find a way to help him, if it's the last thing we do." a way to help him."

He didn't know how or where the strength in his voice was coming from. He had never been as sure of anything in his life as he was about helping Remus.

"How?" said Peter, and for once he didn't look scared, but frightfully sad. His eyes were bloodshot and his round face ashen. "How are we going to help him when there's no cure?"

Sirius looked just as resolute as James felt. He had a steely glint in his eye that James had never seen before. "We'll find a way. We'll find a way to make it easier for him, even if we can't cure him. This is Remus we're talking about. We'll find a way to help him, if it's the last thing we do."


	16. 2-6 or 'We Have to Become Not Human'

_A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. It means so much to know that people are enjoying this story! I truly appreciate your feedback!_

* * *

 **Chapter 16 - 2.6 or "We Just Have to Become Not Human"**

For the first time since he had arrived at Hogwarts, Remus did not return to his dormitory on the night following the full moon. His recollections of his tenure in the hospital wing were hazy at best, blurred by the sharp pain caused by having to regrow all of his fingernails and thick healing potions administered by the ever-patient Madam Pomfrey. His physical discomfort, though, was nothing compared to the excruciating agony of not knowing what had become of his three friends.

Oh, he had not attacked them, of course. Not only would he _know_ instinctively if something that terrible had occurred, but he also knew he would be sitting in a cell in Azkaban if the worst had transpired. But the truth of it was that Remus couldn't remember anything that had occurred in that house after James, Sirius, and Peter had shown up so unexpectedly (so stupidly, he tried not to think). His begging them to leave was the last memory he could grasp at before the darkness had taken over. So they must have gotten out in time – thankfully – but this fact did little to quell the terror and humiliation he felt at the thought of them having been there at all.

Madam Pomfrey released him from her charge after lunch on Tuesday, and Remus stopped briefly in Gryffindor Tower to fetch his books before hurrying to the Charms classroom concurrent with the bell. The classroom was full and, though he was the last student to arrive, his usual seat next to Peter and in front of James and Sirius was empty and waiting for him. He took it gratefully, whispering a quick "hello" to his three friends, but their responding greetings were strained, their smiles more forced than usual.

Remus did his best to pay attention to Professor Flitwick's lecture on Engorgement Charms, but his mind continued to stubbornly wander back to the friends surrounding him. What had he done? What had they seen that would warrant their uneasy expressions? His anxiety only grew as the lesson continued. Generally, Charms was an environment that fostered talking and laughter. When Professor Flitwick turned the class back to them to begin practicing, however, the usual easygoing banter between the four boys was noticeably absent. Much to Remus's consternation, James, Sirius, and Peter remained quiet throughout, focused intently on their wand work. Their was no mischief-making or disruptions, no sniggering or dirty jokes about Engorgement Charms. The lack of chatter between them was unnerving, and by the time the class ended, Remus's uneasiness had crescendoed into proper angst.

He had just shuffled into the corridor with the throng of students making their way toward the courtyard for afternoon break when there was a forceful tugging at his sleeve. It was James, and he was pulling Remus in the opposite direction from the rest of the students, toward where Sirius and Peter waited near an out-of-the-way alcove. Several jostles and bumps caught him on his way toward them, but he had barely had time to recognize the pain of his sore muscles before he had reached their spot and Sirius was speaking.

"Are you all right? You've never been gone longer than one night before. Did Pomfrey find something out? What happened?"

"I…" Remus glanced around nervously at the students who hurried past them, and despite the fact that no one was paying the group of second years any attention at all, he felt very exposed. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm fine, I was j-just a little more…beat up than usual."

"Yeah," said James darkly, "we thought that might be the case."

"We were going to sneak into the hospital wing after curfew last night," said Peter, "but then we got a detention for skiving off Herbology and it ran late. We didn't want to wake you."

"And every time we popped by this morning, Pomfrey was on guard," Sirius told him. "So you're okay, then?"

"Yes," repeated Remus. "What happened the other night? I mean, you…you got out in time, right? Well, obviously – or else we wouldn't be standing here…"

James looked at him sharply. "You don't remember?"

"N-no," said Remus, stammering under the look James was giving him. They were all acting so very strangely. "I just remember you showing up right before…" He faded off and felt a surge of something unbidden and rather foreign to him rise up in his stomach. _Anger_. He was angry at them for following him, and he hadn't even realized it before now. He pushed it away. "We shouldn't talk about this here, anyone might overhear…"

"We're glad you're okay," whispered Peter. "When we saw you the other morning, we were –"

Remus swiveled toward him right as Sirius kicked the smaller boy in the foot.

 _"Peter!"_

"What do you mean, you saw me?" Remus said, heart beginning to pound very fast. None of his three friends met his eye. "You were there? _You came back?"_

For three boys who lied to teachers on a regular basis, none of them was very good at hiding his guilt when faced with Remus.

"Well, we…"

"Er, you see…"

Realization – terrible, icy realization – came to him, and the horror of it obscured his vision for a moment. The missing fingernails…the broken shoulder…the throat raw from howling…

"You were there the whole time," he whispered, his voice a hollow quiver. "You…you didn't get out at all, and I…"

And then, through the deluge of tormenting thoughts that flooded him, there it was again: _anger._

"We're sorry," said James, and for the first time since Remus had met him, he looked ashamed. "It was my fault, Remus. I thought it might help you if we went to sit with you before it started. I didn't think…we never would have if we'd have known…"

"I didn't…I didn't hurt any of you, did I?" croaked Remus.

"No!" said Sirius quickly, as the other two shook their heads with vigor. "No, of course not! We were locked in the bedroom the whole time, you couldn't get to us."

"Well," Remus started, but then he realized he had no words to finish the thought. He watched a few straggling fourth years hurry past them toward the courtyard. "Well…"

"We're sorry," said Sirius. "Really, Remus."

"No," said Remus, shaking his head dismissively. "No, you don't have to apologize. I could have…"

"It's not your fault, it was us…"

"We only thought…"

"I know," Remus cut across them, smothering any sparks of anger in his own guilt. How could he possibly be angry with them? They had discovered his secret and had stood by his side. They knew what he was and still wanted to associate with him. They had been trying to help, and they could have been maimed or killed or turned into something like _him_ for it. He had no right to be angry with any of them, not now or ever. "It's okay. And I'm sorry, too…"

"No, it's not your…"

"I know," repeated Remus, his eyes locked on some Hufflepuffs who had stopped to chat across the corridor. "Look, can we not talk about this anymore? Anyone might overhear…"

Sirius and James exchanged a glance and then both nodded. Nothing else was said as the boys made their way toward the courtyard for break and, oddly, nothing else was said on the matter in the days that followed. Perhaps there was simply nothing that any of them _could_ say to make it better, to make them forget what they had done and witnessed.

But the ubiquitous voice returned that day, telling Remus that something had changed irrevocably between the four boys. They knew now what he was, and not only in an abstract sense. They had seen him at his absolute worst, and there was a very good chance that, despite their assurances to the contrary, they were not okay with it.

* * *

"I can't believe _you_ of all people dragged us to the library."

"Yeah, well, chalk it up to a yuletide miracle. Now, let me see, it should be 'round here somewhere…"

In the middle of December, about a week after witnessing Remus's transformation, Sirius had pulled James and Peter out of bed early one Saturday morning and insisted that they go down to the library to do some research on werewolves. The book that he had opened during his detention with Gin had been weighing on his brain. He kept thinking of it at the oddest times, feeling like it had been trying to tell him something…

"Here it is," he announced, pulling _Deconstructing the Curse of the Werewolf_ off the shelf. James and Peter looked at him skeptically.

"How's a book supposed to help Remus?" James asked.

Sirius grabbed a few other books on werewolves and handed them to James.

"Look, just because there's no cure, doesn't mean there's no other way we can help him," he said.

James shrugged but didn't argue. He looked around at the towering shelves.

"Maybe we should take some other books too," he said. "That way no one gets suspicious if they see us."

"Anyone who sees the two of you in the library is going to be suspicious no matter what," Peter pointed out.

"Fair point," said James, grinning. "I still don't want anyone wondering why we're looking into werewolves, though."

Sirius agreed and piled a few books on dragons, hinkypunks, and hippogriffs on top of his werewolf books. The three boys then made their way over to a secluded table, as far away from Madam Pince as they could be, and began reading.

"This is hopeless," said James after almost an hour of paging through the dusty volumes. Sirius looked up at him, startled. At some point in the hour he had become distracted by the memory of his last visit to the library and had been staring down at the page in front of him in an unfocused daydream. "There's nothing in any of these that can help. Most of them are about how to kill werewolves...it's disgusting."

"Not this one," said Peter, holding up a flimsy little book between his thumb and forefinger, as if disgusted by it. "This one's all about how to keep them as pets."

James grimaced. "Pets? They're still people! Just people with a…a problem! A…bad mood, if you will."

Peter snorted. "A bad moon…"

"Read this," said Sirius lowly, pulling his thoughts back to the task at hand. He ignored James and Peter's laughter regarding the pun and handed James _Deconstructing the Curse of the Werewolf_ , pointing to the passage he had read several weeks ago.

Before James had a chance to read, though, a voice from behind them made them all jump.

"Sirius!"

Sirius turned and found Regulus approaching their table. All three of them immediately covered the werewolf books with others.

"Hi Regulus," Sirius said slowly. It was not until now, when he was face to face with his younger brother that he realized that he had not spoken to Regulus since the train ride before term had started. Whenever he spotted him in the corridors or at mealtimes, Regulus was always surrounded by a group of Slytherin friends. This made him unapproachable, in Sirius's opinion, and at all other times, Sirius had been too distracted by other happenings to seek him out.

"How are you?" he asked nervously.

"Fine." Sirius made sure any incriminating books were well concealed. He glanced uneasily at his friends. Now was not a good time for a family catch-up. "We're a bit busy, though. What do you want?"

Regulus frowned, looking disappointed at his brother's disinterest. "Oh…well, I just wanted to tell you that I got an owl from Mother this morning and she expects you back at Grimmauld Place for the holidays."

Sirius stared at him in horror. " _What?_ Why does she care if I go back or not?"

Regulus shrugged. "She said to tell you that…" He paused and scrunched up his face as though trying to remember the letter verbatim. "…under no circumstances are you allowed to stay at Hogwarts this year and that she'll come to the school to forcibly Floo with you home if you refuse. I have the letter, if you'd like to read it."

"No, I don't need to see it," Sirius grumbled. "You can tell her I got the message."

Regulus nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but seeing the miserable expression on his brother's face, he thought better of it and walked away.

"Christmas at Grimmauld Place!" moaned Sirius once he was gone. "It'll be torture!"

"Well at least it's only two weeks and not two months this time," said James, who was disappointed as well. He had been planning on having Sirius to his house again for the holidays.

"Why does she want me back there anyway? Evil hag. She can't stand me. She's just doing this to spite me."

"Maybe it won't be so bad," offered Peter. "Maybe she'll be nicer because it's Christmas."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, and maybe Father Christmas will bring me a new, shiny, happy family on Christmas morning and we can all hold hands and sing carols together."

Neither Peter nor James was thick enough to press the issue, knowing how touchy Sirius was about his family. Leaving him to stew in his misery, they both went back to reading about werewolves. James looked down at the passage that Sirius had pointed out to him. It didn't seem all that interesting or important.

"Why did you want me to read this, Sirius?" he asked, pointing to the paragraph.

Sirius frowned. "I'm not sure. But I keep thinking about it ever since I read it a few weeks ago. It pops into my head at the oddest times."

"Well there's not much there that we don't know already," said James, looking back over the page. "All it says is that werewolves and humans have a unique relationship, blah blah blah, and that werewolves aren't a threat to anything but – Merlin's pants!"

Both Sirius and Peter jumped at James's exclamation. From across the library, Madam Pince's head snapped up to shoot them a disapproving glare.

"What?" asked Sirius eagerly.

"That's it!" James whispered, glancing back over at Madam Pince, whose eyes were still narrowed suspiciously as she watched them. "You're right! That's how we can help Remus."

Peter snatched the book from James and looked down at it eagerly with Sirius peering at it again from over his shoulder.

"I don't get it," said Peter. "Where does it say how to help Remus?"

James looked beside himself with excitement. "It says right there." He pointed at the same passage that Sirius had shown him. "Right there! It says that werewolves are only a danger to _humans_."

Sirius felt his mouth fall open as the impact of James's words became clear. "That means, we just have to become… _not human_."

"Animagi!"

 _"What?"_ hissed Peter. "You think we can become Animagi to help Remus?"

"Of course! It's perfect! All we have to do is become Animagi and then we can stay with Remus during the full moon. We can't stay with him as people, so we have to stay with him as animals!"

Peter looked back and forth between Sirius and James, who were wearing identical exhilarated grins. "But…but isn't it really difficult to become Animagi? I mean, I don't know if…I don't think I could…"

"Don't worry Peter," said James, knowing that Peter was not nearly as adept at Transfiguration as he and Sirius were. "We'll help you out. We'll all do it together."

He reached across the table to clap Peter on the shoulder, and Peter seemed to swell with happiness. "You really think we can do this?"

"Of course we can," said Sirius. "It might take a few weeks. We'll have to find some books on the spells behind it and everything."

He turned his head in every direction, looking around the library as if expecting a sign to point him to the Animagus section.

"We'll suss it out in no time," assured James. "I can't wait to tell Remus!"

Peter fidgeted. "Maybe we should wait to tell Remus."

"What? Why would we do that?"

"He's been acting a little off since…well, you know. And if it does take a little while, we don't want him to get his hopes up yet. We'll have to at least find the books and everything first."

Both James and Sirius stared at Peter for a moment, taken aback by his insight. "That's a good point," Sirius said, nodding slowly. "We'll get on the right track before telling him. With any luck though, we'll have it down by Christmas."

* * *

Sirius knew something strange was going on the moment he approached his mother and Regulus on platform nine and three-quarters the following week. He was expecting his mother to start berating him, or else to ignore him completely as she had done the previous summer, but he was mistaken. As he reached her, her taut face contorted into what could only pass as a tight-lipped smile. Her hand remained planted firmly on Regulus's shoulder, the talon-like fingernails blood red and gleaming even in the dull grey sunlight. Sirius did not smile back at her.

"Are we ready to go, then?" she asked in what might even pass as a pleasant tone. Sirius stared at her for a moment before shrugging and following the two of them out of the station, both curious about and suspicious of this new side of his mother.

The streets of London were covered in a thin layer of sludgy snow, which Sirius kicked at as he trudged along after his mother and brother. His mother was peppering Regulus with all sorts of questions about his first term and Regulus answered them all eagerly, happy to once again be in the comfort of her clutches. Sirius rolled his eyes and watched as two motorbikes sped down the street, their engines so loud he could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"Deplorable," his mother spat, also watching the motorbikes pass by. "Filthy Muggles and their obscene contraptions."

Neither Sirius nor Regulus responded to this. After a moment of glaring at the spot where the motorbikes had disappeared, Walburga turned and grabbed Sirius's shoulder, pulling him in line with the two of them. Even through the thick layer of his cloak, he could feel her fingernails digging into his skin.

"And you," she said, in a strangely polite tone, "how was your term at Hogwarts?"

Sirius stared up at her and then looked around at the bustling street, wondering if someone was playing a very elaborate prank on him.

"Erm, fine, I guess," he said weakly.

"Learning a lot? Making friends?"

"Yes," he said, not knowing how else to respond.

"You've grown," she said matter-of-factly, her words holding no maternal warmth or appreciation of the observation. She glanced toward his ankles. "You'll need new robes. We shall send off to have some made for you while you're here in London."

He shrugged again and glanced at Regulus, who was looking back and forth between the two of them with cautious hesitance. His mother must have deemed his silence sufficient though, as she let go of Sirius's shoulder and Sirius fell back behind her again, wondering what could possibly have caused such a sharp change in her behavior towards him.

She had turned her attention back to Regulus, and Sirius spent the remainder of the walk to Grimmauld Place behind them, watching the Muggles hurry past with their shopping bags swinging wildly. Some of the Muggles gave them strange looks, no doubt because of their long robes; most, though, were too focused on their own pressing holiday shopping to spare them the energy of a glance.

Kreacher was waiting by the door to take their cloaks when they entered Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher," said Walburga as the elf bowed low toward her, "take the boys' bags upstairs and then make them both some tea to help warm them."

"Yes, Madam," Kreacher croaked before levitating the bags up the stairs and disappearing after them.

Walburga's newfound attitude toward her older son continued over the next several days, and Sirius fluctuated between annoyance at being required to actually speak to his mother when she questioned him, and curiosity as to the reasoning behind her restrained politeness. His father was traveling again, which Sirius was immensely thankful for, as he doubted very much that whatever abrupt sense of probity had overcome his mother would also keep his father's wand at bay.

Two days before Christmas and tired of wandering the bleak halls of his home, Sirius saw an opportunity to sneak out. His mother had mentioned something about a meeting at Gringotts and had taken Regulus along to pick out his very own owl in Diagon Alley, leaving Sirius alone in the house. He had snuck out a few times in recent years, at moments when he could not stomach being cooped up within the suffocating walls of his parents' house for another minute. If left alone, he had discovered soon after obtaining his wand how to unlock the many charms his father had placed on the front door, and he would boldly venture out into the run-down square. Once, during the summer before he had started Hogwarts, while his parents believed him locked in his room, he had even worked out how to scale the drain pipe near his bedroom window, though it was not an ideal escape, as the rusted metal had cut nasty trenches into his palms.

Now though, left to his own devices, Sirius had no need for daring multi-story circumventions. He simply undid the locking charms on the front door and brazenly stepped out of Number 12 and into the snowy streets of London.

He had not had the opportunity to sneak out at all during the previous summer, and he had nearly forgotten the exhilaration of being out on his own among the Muggles. No teachers to tell him he was out of bounds, no mother keeping him locked away in the house like a prisoner…he only wished James were there to explore London with him. He navigated through bustling shops, watching the Muggles do their shopping, talking and laughing with one another.

There was a distinct holiday cheer in the city, with the sounds of Christmas bells ringing around every corner. After an hour or two of wandering through shops and peering into pub windows, Sirius found himself on a park bench a few blocks from home, watching a group of Muggles play a very snowy game of football. The Muggles looked to be about his age, maybe a year or two older. To Sirius's untrained eye, the sole girl in the group was the best of them all, dribbling circles around the boys and scoring the majority of the goals.

The football game wrapped up and the group walked past, the ball tucked under the girl's arm. One of the boys looked at Sirius curiously as they walked by.

"Next time wear some proper clothes, mate," he said, "and maybe you can play instead of just gawking."

There were some chuckles from the group as they disappeared down the street. Sirius frowned and got up to make his way home.

Though he had always wished for Muggle clothes to wear during his escapades in London, he had never been particularly uncomfortable before in his robes. His parents had always commented on Muggle attire with so much venom that his main interest in it was the passing notion that donning Muggle clothes was a good way to enrage his parents. But now, he longed desperately for some Muggle pounds to buy himself a pair of jeans. He had some Galleons stashed away in his room, but no way to exchange them. Imagining his mother's reaction if he showed up to Christmas dinner in jeans instead of robes, he made a mental note to stop by Gringotts the next time he was in Diagon Alley.

"Where have you been?"

Sirius froze a step inside Grimmauld Place at his mother's voice. He grimaced. He shouldn't have stayed out so long.

"I was out," he said, and then he walked right past where she was standing in the hallway and began climbing the stairs.

"Out where, exactly?" Her tone was angry but not as hate-filled as it normally was when she addressed him.

Though he insolently did not stop his ascent up the stairs or even turn to look at his mother, he saw no reason not to tell her the truth. "Just wandering. Nowhere in particular."

"Stop right there!" she shrieked, and he paused mid-step but still did not turn to face her. This was more the reaction he had expected. "You do not leave this house without permission, you do not wander around amid Muggle filth, you do not socialize with scum unsuitable to scrape the dirt off of our shoes. Do you understand me? Do you understand me, you –"

She cut herself off before calling him whatever she had intended to call him. Now he turned back toward her, confused. She seemed to be wrestling with herself, as if it took all of her willpower to not hurl vitriolic insults at her son. She had never restrained herself from yelling at him before, from calling him awful things.

 _What was going on?_

He shrugged at her, wanting desperately to get back to the solitude of his room. "Is that all?"

"No," she said, clearly still restraining herself. "We shall be having guests tomorrow for dinner. Some of the family will be joining us. I have left new robes in your room that you will wear to look properly presentable. Your father will be back and you will be expected to be on your best behavior. If one toe of yours crosses the line, you will be punished accordingly. Do you understand?"

Sirius fought back a groan. He loathed his aunt, uncle, and two of his three cousins. Their presence was the worst Christmas present his parents could give him. But the warning about his father rang in his ears and he knew this was not the time to argue.

"Yes, Mother," he said. Without another glance, he took the remaining stairs two at a time, longingly wishing that he had never returned at all.

* * *

"SHE DID WHAT?"

It was Christmas Eve night and Sirius's Aunt Druella had just informed them all that Andromeda Black had run off with a Muggle-born by the name of Ted Tonks.

"Filthy, no-good blood traitor…my own daughter…can you even believe it?" She hadn't even taken off her cloak yet, having made the announcement the second she stepped into the dining room at Grimmauld Place. Sirius, already seated at the long, mahogany table, sunk down in his chair and tried to hide his smile. Andromeda and a Muggle-born? It was _brilliant_.

His cousin Narcissa, looking haughty and not particularly ruffled by this family scandal, walked in behind her mother and took a seat as far away from Sirius as she could locate. Narcissa's father, Cygnus, entered quietly behind his still-ranting wife, made his way to the sideboard, and immediately poured himself a drink.

Sirius was thrilled to discover that his cousin Bellatrix was not with them, though the happy bubble deflated somewhat when his grandparents, Pollux and Irma, followed Cygnus into the room.

"My own daughter," Druella repeated, her voice grating on Sirius's ears already. "A direct descendant of Phineas Nigellus Black, running 'round doing Merlin-knows-what with that Muggle scum. And _you!_ " she shrieked, turning on Narcissa, who looked back at her impassively. "You should have told me this was happening last year at Hogwarts. How dare you not report something like this back to your mother, something that could bring ruin upon our entire family!"

"I told you already, Mother," Narcissa said, examining the ends of her blonde hair in what appeared to be extreme boredom, "I didn't know she was seeing him last year. She kept it a tight secret. Of course I would have told you had I been aware."

Walburga, though, had apparently noticed the amused expression on Sirius's face. She narrowed her eyes at her son.

"Did you know about this?"

"What?" said Sirius, taken aback. "Me?"

 _"Did you?"_

Every eye in the room was now on Sirius, who straightened indignantly in his chair. "No! Why would _I_ know about this?"

Aunt Druella scoffed. "You little blood-traitors don't swap secrets, then?"

"It's not like we've got a club or something," snapped Sirius. "It's not as if I give a rat's arse about Andromeda's love life…"

His grandmother Irma, who had found the seat next to him, smacked him upside the ear. Sirius winced and ducked away from her.

"What the…"

"You watch your mouth young man, or you'll have your grandfather to answer to."

Sirius's grandfather Pollux, though, had taken a seat at the head of the table and did not seem to be paying them any attention at all. Indeed, he was deaf enough that Sirius doubted very much that he would have heard Sirius's retort, even if it had been shouted at full volume. Walburga, who was breathing heavily though her pointed nose, crossed the table to put a calming hand on her mother's shoulder.

"Leave him be, Mother." She turned now to her brother Cygnus, her tone icy. "You'll be disowning Andromeda at once, I presume?"

Cygnus did not answer immediately, but took his seat next to Narcissa and finished the rest of his drink in one long swig before nodding and saying, "We've already contacted Gringotts to have her removed from the trust."

"As you should have. No blood-traitors shall ever have access to the family fortune," Walburga said, her eyes glancing to her oldest son when she said 'blood-traitors.' "I'll grant you to remove her from the tapestry yourself after dinner, Brother."

Talk of Andromeda and Ted Tonks continued through the first few courses of dinner, all of it fevered and disgusted. Sirius tried his best to keep a defensive eye on his grandmother, lest she try to smack him again, and to keep his expression impassive. He tuned out the conversation and distracted himself by thinking of Animagi and their plan to help Remus. He, James, and Peter had spent the last bit of term trying desperately to find books in the Hogwarts library that could be of assistance in their quest to become Animagi, but they had been wholly unsuccessful. While there were dozens of tomes on the subject, none of them had any mention of the actual processes involved in becoming one.

"Bella, of course, is significantly involved," Druella was saying, and the name pulled Sirius from his daydream in which he was able to turn into a lion at will. He loathed his cousin Bellatrix, a sadistic girl about eight years his senior. He hadn't seen her since starting at Hogwarts, but he imagined her reaction to his being made a Gryffindor would rival his mother's.

"Of course she is," said Sirius's grandmother. "She's a clever girl, and very enterprising, she is. And we know Rodolphus has become involved with him as well. It's a good match. They will serve him well."

Interest piqued, Sirius glanced around at the faces surrounding the table. Both Regulus and Narcissa looked utterly bored. His Uncle Cygnus was on his third or fourth glass of scotch, and his pale cheeks were getting redder and redder as the evening wore on. Both of Sirius's parents were sitting regally in their chairs, ever the proper dinner hosts. Across the table from him, Aunt Druella had spent much of the meal poking the roasted duck around her plate but certainly not taking more than a few bites, no doubt concerned as always about her waistline. His grandmother next to him, on the other hand, had devoured every bite of her plate with slovenly vigor. And then there was his grandfather, who had evidently fallen asleep at some point during the meal and was drooling into his wine goblet.

"They are moving swiftly toward the Ministry, or so my contacts inform me," said Orion. "I imagine it will be a year, maybe two, before the Statute of Secrecy is disbanded and the revolution is complete."

Cygnus responded, his voice gravelly and cold despite the flush in his cheeks. "Well it has certainly been a long time coming. The Mudblood-loving Minister will be gone soon enough and we will once again have a proper pureblood leading wizardkind."

"And allowing the Blacks our rightful place within the fold, of course," added Druella.

Sirius's mother nodded. "You mark my words, he is the best thing that has happened to the magical world since Salazar Slytherin himself."

Sirius couldn't bite his tongue any longer. "Who are you talking about?"

Everyone at the table – with the exception of his grandfather, whose head was now lolling forward dangerously – looked at him.

"No questions from you," his father responded coldly, and Sirius knew well enough not to argue. "And sit up straight."

Sirius's first inclination at his father's command was to slouch farther down in his chair, but disobeying a direct order from his father would certainly lead to much worse than an ear smack later on. Plus, if he was sent away from the table right then, he wouldn't be able to glean any additional information, and the conversation had just turned interesting. Thus, he heeded his father and aligned his spine with the hard back of the tall wooden chair.

"Speaking of purebloods," said his mother in a strangely conversational tone that did not fit at all with the previous conversation, "Regulus informs us that you have become friends with the young Potter boy, Sirius."

Sirius didn't know if it was a question or an accusation of some sort. He glared at Regulus, who did not meet his eye.

"Yeah, so what?" he snapped.

"That's good," his mother said, exchanging a strangely conspiratorial look with Druella and uncharacteristically ignoring the bite in Sirius's tone. "I was glad to hear that you've consorted yourself with a pureblood at least. Do you know much about the Potters, then?"

"About the Potters?" Sirius repeated blankly.

"Yes, about the boy's family."

"Er…"

His mother waited patiently as Sirius began connecting the dots, though a few of the dots were still missing. His whirring memory recalled the conversation he and his friends had overheard a year ago in the Slytherin common room, where Lucius Malfoy had spoken about someone outside of Hogwarts who needed help recruiting younger students. Was this wizard the same person the Blacks had been referring to moments ago? And was his mother trying to manipulate him into providing them all information about James and his family?

Was _that_ why she hadn't been as horrible to him since he had returned home? Because she was trying to butter him up?

He could feel his temper rising up within him like a serpent and he fought with all of his willpower to keep it at bay. This information could be used to his advantage if he kept his head.

"They're very rich," he said slowly. "James always has the best of everything. And…I think his dad used to make potions, but that's all I know."

It wasn't all he knew, of course, but he didn't want them to know that he had met James's parents, had spent Christmas the previous year with them.

"And they value the purity of blood?" asked his aunt.

Sirius shrugged innocently, thankful for all of his practice lying to adults at school.

"I don't know, it's never come up."

From the corner of his eye, he could see both Regulus and Narcissa watching him closely, but neither of them dared contradict him on the matter.

"Hmm," said Sirius's mother, clearly not satisfied with his lack of details. But she must not have wanted to force the subject in front of their guests, because talk turned back to Andromeda and Ted and nothing more was said about the mysterious man or James's family for the rest of the evening.

* * *

 _Tap, tap, tap._

Sirius stirred, untangling himself from his bedding.

 _Tap, tap, tap._

He looked around bemusedly. He had been having a very nice dream in which he had been riding the Hogwarts Express with Didina Murphy, but the details of it were already slipping away. His room was still very dark, but he could see a light purple creeping through the window and he knew it must be very early in the morning. He lit his wand, rubbed his eyes, and looked closer at the window; James's owl Ari was perched on the sill outside, a parcel tied to his leg.

Springing out of bed at once, Sirius threw open the window and allowed Ari to fly inside the bedroom, hooting happily. He stroked the bird's feathers as he untied the parcel, which was the size of a small book and had a sealed envelope attached to it. As the bird flew back out the still-open window, Sirius crept back into his bed and tore open the parcel first.

It was a small mirror. Confused and wondering if this was James's idea of some sort of joke, Sirius opened the envelope and read the short letter, bathed in the small pool of light afforded by his still-lit wand.

 _"Sirius,_

 _Happy Christmas! Hope your family is treating you okay and you've been able to have a bit of fun this break. I found this in a run-down shop in Diagon Alley when I went Christmas shopping with my parents last week. It's bloody brilliant, and now you can make sure you look nice and pretty for all of your girlfriends, too."_

Sirius looked at the mirror again, but there was nothing remotely interesting about it other than his own bleary-eyed confusion staring back at him.

 _"I found something else when we were out too, but don't want to put it in writing just in case my parents get a hold of Ari before this gets to you. I'll tell you all about it. I told Ari to deliver this early on Christmas, before your parents are awake. Just say my name into the mirror and it'll make more sense, I promise._

 _Be seeing you sooner than you think,_

 _James"_

The cold air flowing in through the open window caused Sirius to shiver and bundle under his blankets, though his interest in the strange mirror was more pressing at the moment than getting up to close the window. He picked up the mirror once more and – feeling very foolish – said "James Potter" into his own reflection. Immediately, his skeptical reflection disappeared and was replaced with James's face, a very familiar hellion grin plastered onto it.

"Is this for real?" Sirius asked in awe, looking at his best friend in the mirror. James was also sitting in his bed, his hair sticking up in every direction, mussed from sleep.

"I told you, didn't I? Bloody brilliant! Happy Christmas!"

"Well it sure is now," said Sirius, thrilled to be talking to someone he didn't loathe for the first time in a week.

"How's London?" asked James.

Sirius exhaled loudly and shook his head. "About as exciting as a flobberworm circus."

James snorted. "Figure out yet why your mum made you come home?"

"I think so," said Sirius. "She's been acting barmy – barmier than usual, mind you – talking to me and asking me questions about Hogwarts all week, as if she actually cares."

"Yeah?" said James, clearly thinking this meant a cuddly reconciliation between mother and son.

Sirius grimaced. "Yeah, but she doesn't actually care. She'd still like to see me burn in Fiendfyre, I reckon, she's just pretending she wouldn't. Maybe a regular fire, you'd have to ask her. But anyway, she's clearly got some sort of agenda, and then last night at dinner, my whole family was over – my grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousin – and they started asking me about you."

"About me?"

"Yep," said Sirius. "Asking me how much you care about being pureblood, and what your family's like, and all that nonsense."

"So what did you tell them?" James asked, brow furrowed.

"Well, here's the rub…I told them your family was rich and powerful and I wasn't sure how you feel about all that rubbish."

"But you _do_ know how I feel…"

"Of course I do," said Sirius, waving a hand dismissively. "But _they_ don't. And listen, it's a great plan, because if they're trying to use me to recruit you into some sort of Dark Arts club or something, then they'll let me see you over breaks."

James seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Why do you think they're interested in me?"

"Well that's the other thing I wanted to tell you," Sirius said, explaining in detail the conversation at the dinner table about the mysterious man.

James's frown became more and more pronounced as Sirius spoke. "Do you think this is the same bloke who Malfoy and them were talking about last year…"

"…in the Slytherin common room?" Sirius finished for him. "That's what I was thinking too."

"So we know there's some wizard out there who a bunch of Slytherins are joining up with and recruiting for, who's interested in recruiting more purebloods like me and you, who thinks Muggle-borns are filth and who your dad says will take over the Ministry soon. What else do we know?"

Sirius shrugged. "That my family is chock full of nutters who would follow a horklump around if it told them they were better than Muggles and Muggle-borns?"

James laughed. The room was getting lighter as the sun rose steadily outside the window. Again, Sirius considered getting up to close the window, but even with the cold, he was too comfortable at the moment talking to James to move. He extinguished the light of his wand and listened hard for sounds of movement in the house, but heard none, so he settled back in bed to talk more to his best friend.

"So you mentioned in your letter that you found something else but couldn't say…"

"Oh yeah!" said James excitedly. "One sec, I'll show you…" There was a great bit of jostling in the mirror and Sirius was suddenly looking at the ceiling of James's bedroom, James having apparently placed the mirror on the bedside table while he rummaged around for something.

"Here," he said, reappearing in the frame. "I found it in Flourish and Blotts and I think it has almost everything we'll need for our plan."

He held a book up to the mirror and Sirius could just make out the title of it: _Animated Animagi: Connecting with the Beast Inside of You._

"It has the spells?" Sirius said excitedly. "It tells us how to become Animagi?"

"Mostly. It's a good starting point, I think. The shopkeeper at Flourish and Blotts was right helpful, though. He said there's another book…I wrote the name down here, hold on…" There was more jostling in the mirror as James dug around for something again. "Here it is… _Advanced and Radical Human Transfiguration_ by Falco Aesalon. I made it seem like I was just writing an essay for school, but he said that they don't sell that book there, that you have to request a copy directly from the Ministry, so that they can keep track of wizards who are trying to become Animagi."

"Bugger," said Sirius, thinking hard. "How are we going to get our hands on a copy, then?"

"I don't know. But reading through this book," – James lifted the book into view again – "makes me think this is going to take longer than we thought. It's really, really advanced stuff, Sirius."

"Well we've got to try, right? I'm sure we can handle it, me and you are better than most of the fifth years at Transfiguration…"

"Yeah," said James, "but it's not just Transfiguration. There's a potion that we have to make too, just to get the whole thing started. And it's much more complex than anything we've done in class…"

"I guess we'll work on that first, then, while we're trying to figure out how to get that other Ministry book…"

Sirius started and cut off when a large tawny owl flew straight through the still-open window and dropped another parcel on his bed.

"It's from Remus!" he told James, recognizing the handwriting on the front of the package. He tore it open to find a short note wishing him a happy Christmas and a crimson Gryffindor banner.

"Nice!" he said, holding the banner up so that James could see it too.

"Very," nodded James appreciatively. "Where are you going to hang it?"

Sirius looked around his room, grinning at the thought of what his mother would say if he hung a Gryffindor banner in her house.

"You don't by chance know the spell for a Permanent Sticking Charm, do you James?"


	17. 2-7 or 'A Way to Help'

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! They are such a bright spot in my day. Onto the chapter, and the return of Lily! Also a few canon gems in this that make me smile. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 17 - 2.7 or "A Way To Help"**

The Christmas holidays had not been kind to Remus. In fact, they had been barely short of tortuous.

He was never comfortable with lying – especially to his parents – so in an effort to not accidentally disclose his friends' discovery of his condition, he had spent most of the break hidden in his room, or else wandering the icy woods behind his house, avoiding his parents as much as possible. If his father discovered that three other second years were aware of Remus's secret, there was no telling what he would do. What if he made Remus leave Hogwarts? It had been hard enough the previous summer, convincing his father to let him visit James's house for a week. If Lyall Lupin knew the power that James, Sirius, and Peter held – the power to ruin Remus's life with a slip of the tongue – his worry and stress would swallow him whole. And so Remus retreated into solitude.

His parents were rightfully confused by his behavior; he had always been quiet, but never overly sullen. Not knowing how to deal with this new version of their generally genial son, the Lupins had allowed him to keep his distance, which meant that Remus had barely spoken to anyone at all for the two weeks he was home.

On top of that, the full moon had most unfortunately fallen on the night before term started, so Remus had to miss the first two days of lessons, enduring his transformation while locked in his parents' dank basement. Since coming to Hogwarts, he had adjusted to the monthly treks to the house on the edge of Hogsmeade, a routine that did not make his transformations any less painful, but that had at least mitigated the terror that he might escape his parents' basement and attack them. When locked away in his parents' house again, his transformations were now unbearable, more gruesome and draining than ever before. It had taken him almost an entire day longer than usual to recover.

But the worst part about his holiday – worse than lying to his parents or the brutality of his transformation – was that Remus had nothing to distract him from the obsessive thought that his friends were moving on without him.

They had been distant ever since the night they were trapped in that house with him, ever since witnessing his transformation, ever since he had tried to kill them all. There was no outright coldness – to an innocent bystander, nothing would be amiss about their interactions. But Remus, so concerned for so long about whether or not he deserved their friendship, had noticed it immediately. He would enter the room and they would stop talking; they would disappear for hours without telling him where they were going; they would eat quickly at mealtimes and then rush out of the Great Hall before Remus had finished half of his dinner, uttering hasty excuses about homework or Quidditch practice. Even the gifts and notes that he had received from each of them on Christmas had done nothing to quiet his dread.

And so, on the night he returned to Hogwarts, using the Floo Network that was connected to Professor McGonagall's office, he had all but convinced himself that James, Sirius, and Peter were never going to talk to him again.

It was just after dinner and the castle was fairly quiet as Remus plodded the familiar path up to Gryffindor Tower. Entering the common room, hiss eyes immediately snapped to the table in the corner that he and his friends usually occupied in the evenings. It was empty.

Stomach sinking, he sighed and made his way up the staircase to drop off his things. He wanted desperately to crawl into his four-poster and hide from the world, but having missed two days of lessons, he was already behind for the term and knew he needed to get to work. He had only just stepped off the boys' staircase and back into the common room when someone called out his name.

"Hi Remus!"

It was Raeanne Muller, sitting at a parchment and book-covered table between Gin and Mary. Remus's initial response was the temptation to look behind him to see if she was talking to someone else, but he caught himself in time. There were not any other Remuses at Hogwarts, that he knew of. He had never had much of a conversation with any of these girls, though, and especially not without his friends present to mask his discomfort. Feeling rather awkward, he made his way over to their table.

"Hello," he said. "Er…nice Christmas?"

"Very!" said Raeanne.

"Are you okay, Remus?" asked Mary, surveying him with a concerned expression.

"Are you ill?" Raeanne added. "Everyone was wondering why you hadn't come back after the holidays."

"Oh…no, I'm not ill," he mumbled. "Erm, my mum is though. She's been ill for a while and…well, it was quite bad the last few days so they thought it'd be best if I stayed home with her."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Raeanne. "Is she doing better now?"

Desperately wanting to change the conversation, Remus nodded quickly. "Yes. She's doing much better, thank you." He paused, but the girls were still watching him as if expecting him to say more. He longed for James or Sirius and their shared ability to talk to anybody – adolescent or adult, male or female – with natural nonchalance. "So, er, what did I miss in lessons?"

All three girls grimaced; apparently, none of the professors had been particularly kind in the two days he had been absent, at least not where the homework load was concerned.

"Let's see," said Mary, flipping through some of the parchment spread across the table. "An essay on International Warlock Conventions of the 1800's for Binns; practice on Engorgement Charms for Flitwick; research on the side-effects of Calming Draughts for Slughorn…"

"Calming Draughts?" Remus repeated. "I'd better be off to the library, then." He pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder and added awkwardly as an afterthought, "It closes before long."

Gin, who had yet to say anything during the exchange, stood up suddenly, rolled up her parchment, and began packing some books into her bag.

"I'll walk with you," she said. "I need to look into some books on Behavioral Draughts anyway for Slughorn."

Mary and Raeanne waved goodbye to the pair as they climbed out of the portrait hole. Remus walked silently for several minutes, feeling increasingly uncomfortable; he tried to recall if he had ever even had a conversation with Gin before. Certainly not without his friends by his side.

"How was your holiday?" he asked, when the silence had become too much to bear.

She looked at him as though she had forgotten he was there. "Oh," she said. "It was all right, I guess." She paused momentarily as if this was all she had to say on the matter, and then added, rather abruptly, "It felt too long this year. I reckon I was just ready to come back."

Remus nodded, trying to make conversation. "I know what you mean. It seems much quieter 'round my house now that I'm used to being here with everyone else."

"Yeah," Gin agreed. "Makes me wish I had a sibling or two to liven things up."

"It's just you and your parents, then?" Remus asked as they turned the corner and started down the staircase to the fourth floor.

"Just me and my mum. My dad's not around."

"Oh." Remus felt himself redden at his own sheltered naivety. He glanced at his feet and said, "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry," Gin said, shrugging. There was a pause. "My mum usually has a boyfriend about anyway, so depending on whether he's completely dull or not, sometimes that livens things up."

Remus didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know much about Gin, after all, except for the fact that she had once blackmailed Sirius into showing her the kitchens and that she had once kissed Sirius in the library. He wondered if Gin knew that Sirius had told them all about that, and then felt a sudden wave of discomfort when he realized he had been walking next to her, thinking about the fact that she had kissed one of his best friends.

"Er…" He said, trying to wrench his thoughts back to more chivalrous territory. "Even at Christmas?"

"Oh yes," she said dryly. "This year his name was Greg and he's a salesman for a dragon scale distributor that my mum uses at her shop. Dull as a flobberworm, though. I'm sure he'll be gone by Easter, at least."

"I didn't know your mum has a shop," Remus said, jumping onto a more comfortable subject as they turned down the corridor where the library could be found.

Gin nodded. "An apothecary specializing in rare potions ingredients. It's awfully boring work."

Remus wanted to ask her more about the shop, but they had entered the library and were immediately hushed by Madam Pince when their voices carried into the cavernous room. They both wandered toward the back, where the books on potions were stacked on dusty shelves as tall as mountain trolls. Remus gazed up at the shelves, trying to locate a book that might help him with Calming Draughts as Gin wandered off to another row. His stomach seemed to unclench in relief once she had disappeared behind the shelves. The conversation had been pleasant enough, but he was not used to the energy it took to socialize with anyone other than his three friends.

"…we could transfigure the cover, so that no one knows what it is."

"Or maybe require a password to open it? So not just anyone could get in it…"

"Excellent. Let's do both."

Remus frowned and peered through the shelves. He recognized those voices. Pulling a few books aside, he found himself looking at one of the stranger sights he had seen at Hogwarts: James, Sirius and Peter in the library. Without him.

His heart sank to somewhere around his navel. Here was his proof that he was not mistaken in his sense that something was off. Not only had they not waited for him in the common room like he was hoping, but they were sequestered in the _library_ of all places, clearly working on some sort of new scheme without him. He steeled himself, swallowed hard, and walked around the shelf to where they were sitting.

"Hi guys," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as pleadingly pathetic to them as it did to him.

All three of them jumped, as though they had been caught red-handed in a particularly nefarious scheme.

"Remus!" said James, and Remus couldn't help but notice that Sirius immediately covered the book he had been looking at with his bag. "You're back!"

"I only just got back about an hour ago." Why were they looking so shifty? "What are you up to?"

"Nothing!" squeaked Peter unconvincingly. Sirius shot him a look of pure annoyance.

"We're just working on our Potions essay," he said, but Remus knew without a doubt that he was lying.

Remus's voice sounded strange in his ears when he replied, "Oh, well…er, would you mind filling me in? I think I'm already properly behind…"

James and Sirius exchanged looks that were not lost on Remus, whose throat felt very tight. Once again, as it had after his friends had followed him during his transformation, a flicker of anger fought to ignite in his gut. After all they had told him, after all they had promised him, why could they not now just be honest with him? This facade of friendship they were attempting to hide behind was becoming increasingly cracked, and their attempts to shelter Remus from its dissolution were belittling, at best.

"Er, sure…I mean…well…"

"Hello," came a voice from just behind Remus, and James stopped speaking at once. It was Gin, surveying them all impassively and holding two very large and moldy Potions books.

"I've found what I need," she told Remus. "I didn't know if you were walking back or staying here?"

"Er, well I –"

"All right, Gin?" interrupted Sirius, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Next to him, James seemed to be fighting a smile.

"All right," she said easily. "But you've some ink on your face, Sirius, on your cheek there…"

James snorted and turned away to hide his laughter as Sirius rubbed angrily at the smudge of ink on his right cheek.

"Anyway, if you're going to stay here, Remus, I'm going to be getting back. See you lot later," she added, before turning on her heel and disappearing through the stacks.

James roared in laughter, which earned him a withering look from Madam Pince. Looking very put out indeed, Sirius pointed his wand at James and shot several red sparks out of the end of it, lighting James's sleeve on fire. James yelped and jumped up, hopping around in an attempt to put out the flames.

"WHAT IS GOING ON OVER HERE?"

Madam Pince had come over, her face taut with anger, and waved her wand to vanish the flames at once.

"Cretin boys! You are quite disturbing the rest of the students. Detention for you both, Potter and Black. And all of you, OUT!"

They hurriedly packed up their things and made their way out of the library, Sirius still rubbing at his cheek while James sniggered, but Remus could not find it within him to even crack a smile.

* * *

Across the library, Severus and Lily sat together, their homework spread across a large table, trying and failing to ignore the disturbance created by the Gryffindor boys.

"What are they doing in here, anyway?" hissed Severus, his lip curled as James's laughter echoed across the room.

Lily glanced up from her book and watched as Sirius lit James's sleeve on fire. Her eye-roll turned into a satisfied smirk when Madam Pince began shooing the boys bodily out of the library.

"Who knows?" she said, turning back to her homework. "Now, do you think adding the belladonna would help keep the fatigue at bay?"

Severus wasn't listening, his bitter stare intent on the group as they were ushered out the door.

"Sev? Earth to Sev?"

"They're up to something," he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the now-motionless door.

Lily glanced back at the door briefly and then frowned at him. "Probably," she admitted.

"I'm going to catch them. I'll get them caught in their games before they do anything else to me. I'll get them expelled if I have to."

"Okay," Lily said, raising her eyebrows. "Or maybe you could ignore them. Other than being obnoxious, they weren't really bothering us…"

His eyes snapped to her so quickly that she leaned away from him.

"Why are you defending them?" he snarled.

"I…I'm not," she stammered, stung by his tone. Madam Pince was now giving the two of them a disapproving look, so Lily lowered her voice to a whisper. "I just think that maybe you care a little bit too much about what they're up to. Sometimes you don't talk about anything else."

"How can you say that? Knowing all the things they've done to me? Knowing what they did to me yesterday in History of Magic…my first class of the term…"

"You don't know that was them, Sev…"

"Of course it was them! Who else would put a Chattering Charm on my bleeding quill so that it started shouting about right in the middle of class…everybody was staring…"

Lily sighed. "I know they're horrible to you, but you said yourself that Binns didn't even notice…"

"Is that the point?"

"…And it's not as if you're innocent in all this! You hex them in the corridors, Sev, don't act like you don't…and you were with the group last year that levitated Peter Pettigrew into the lake…"

"Are you serious right now?" he interrupted her, his face turning a red, blotchy color.

"I'm just saying," she said, trying her best to keep the annoyance out of her voice, "maybe if you didn't encourage them by hexing them and following them 'round all the time…"

"Don't," he spat. "Don't you dare tell me this is my fault."

Lily had never been particularly good at biting her tongue, particularly when she was frustrated.

"I didn't say it was your fault, but you barely talk to me about anything else anymore! It's always 'Potter-this, Black-that.' You know that just eggs them on, don't you? They're looking to get a reaction out of you, Severus."

He was looking at her now as though she were a raving lunatic. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Look," she continued, taking the bite out of her tone, trying to appease him, "I shouldn't have said anything. Sometimes you just get so focused on them and I just…I miss you…is all…"

These words did the trick. His shoulders deflated a bit as he released some of the tension he had been holding in, and she thought she even detected a trace of a smile pass across his lips.

But then a second later he said, "Well once they're expelled – once I catch them – we won't ever have to talk about them again, Lily. Neither of us will ever even think about Potter or Black or their cronies again."

Lily fought not to groan. She decided to change the subject.

"Are you going to Slughorn's get-together on Saturday? I think it's after lunch. We can walk down together if you want to."

"Hmm?" he said distractedly. "Oh, right, the afternoon tea. Yes, I think I'll go, if you're going."

"Great," said Lily. "It should be fun."

"As long as Potter doesn't show up, though I know he thinks he's too _good_ for Slughorn's parties. I about gagged in class yesterday when Slughorn was going on and on about how brilliant Potter's bleeding dad was at Potions. Like Potter needs another thing to inflate his ego…"

Lily had to restrain herself from banging her head against the table.

* * *

Several weeks into the term, James, Sirius, and Peter had made very little progress on their plan to become Animagi, much to their increasing frustration. Between owl-order, their own potions kits, and nicking a few key ingredients from Slughorn's office during his latest get-together (which James and Sirius had long ago decided was the only palatable reason for ever attending such a soiree), the three boys had almost everything they needed for the potion that would be the first step in the transformation process. The only hitch was the last missing ingredient: they were required to pick fresh knotgrass at midnight during a full moon. The timing was not the issue; they were used to wandering around the castle after midnight. The problem was that none of them had the slightest idea of where to find a patch of knotgrass on the Hogwarts grounds.

Huddled at their usual table in the Gryffindor common room one evening after dinner, James, Sirius, and Peter were discussing this very issue.

"We could always ask Slughorn," James suggested. "You know he likes us, Sirius, he might not ask too many questions."

"That seems really risky," whispered Peter. "What if he figures out what we're up to?"

"Fresh-picked knotgrass is used in over 100 potions, though," said Sirius, flipping through his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._ "It'd be pretty lucky for him to guess which one we were using it for…"

"Peter's right," said James, thinking hard. "It's too big of a risk to ask a teacher."

"Maybe Remus would know?" suggested Peter, buoyed by James's agreement. "Isn't it about time we tell him what we're doing anyway?"

"We probably should soon," Sirius agreed. "He's been a little moody lately, this might cheer him up."

James frowned. "I thought we had decided to wait until we had the transformations down before telling him. You know he's going to try and talk us out of it."

"Yeah, but he could help," Peter said. "Maybe he'd know where to find the knotgrass, or else how to get that other book from the Ministry. He's good with books and research and stuff."

"His most damning quality, to be sure," mused Sirius lightly.

They lapsed into silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Sirius was looking around the crowded room, studying their fellow Gryffindors as they chatted idly or worked on homework. His eyes lingered on a table not too far from theirs, where the second-year girls were giggling about something or other.

"What about Evans?" he said suddenly.

"What about her?" said James, turning around to glance at the table as well.

"She's pretty much obsessed with Potions. I bet she'd know where to find knotgrass."

James thought about this for a moment and then shrugged his agreement.

"Better than asking Slughorn," he said. "What do you think Peter?"

But Sirius did not wait for Peter to respond before he called out, "Oi! EVANS!"

Several nearby Gryffindors jumped at the yell, rolling their eyes when they realized it was only Sirius. Lily turned toward them.

"What do you want, Black?"

"I HAVE A POTIONS QUESTION!" he shouted unnecessarily. People were looking at him again, annoyed. "CAN YOU COME OVER HERE TO HELP?"

"Keep your voice down, will you, Black?" said a prefect called Newlyn Gallit. "We're trying to study here."

"SORRY NEWLYN!" Sirius yelled, even louder than before. Newly just shook his head and went back to his essay.

Lily, looking exasperated but slightly amused, stood up and walked over to their table; behind her, Adin put her quill down and watched excitedly.

"All right," she said smugly, plopping down in the chair that was usually occupied by Remus. "How can my brilliance be of service?"

James grinned. He had always liked Lily's cheek.

"Well we were over here working on our Potions homework," started Sirius, "you know, trying to get ahead a bit, catch up to you, since you're so ace in class, always flying circles 'round us…"

"Get on with it, then, and stop trying to butter me up," Lily interrupted.

In response, Sirius smiled his most charming smile.

"We need to know where we can pick fresh knotgrass on the Hogwarts grounds."

Lily sat back in her chair and surveyed them all, a knowing look in her eyes. "What are you three up to?"

"We told you," said James. "We're just trying to get ahead in class…"

"Bollocks."

James let out a low whistle, but Lily's expression didn't change.

"Ah, come on Evans," Sirius said. "Just tell us where the knotgrass is."

"And why should I?"

"Do it as a favor? Helping out your fellow Gryffindors?" suggested Sirius.

"House spirit and all that?" added James.

"House spirit?" she repeated with a raised eyebrow. She thought about this for a moment. "Hmm. And what will you give me in return?"

"The knowledge that you helped us in furthering our magical education?" offered James, losing hope that she was actually going to provide them any useful information at all.

"I would have thought that someone as brilliant as you, Potter, wouldn't need any help," she said coolly.

"Well you know," he smirked, "even geniuses have to start somewhere…"

She sized them up, thinking hard. "Fine. I'll tell you where to get the knotgrass –"

"Perfect –"

"Thanks a lot, Evans –"

She held up a hand to stop them. "I'll tell you," she continued, "if you give me your word that you won't hex Severus Snape again for the rest of the school year."

 _"What?"_

"No way!"

"You're off your rocker!"

She shrugged at them innocently, but the calculating twinkle in her eye gave her away. "Fine by me. That's my price. Your choice."

James looked at Peter, who was now gaping at Lily as though he had never seen anything like her before; Sirius was wearing a shrewd expression, thinking over the offer; James himself felt mutinous. Leaving Snape alone? What fun was that?

But then his thoughts turned to Remus. He thought about how long it had been already since they had formed their plan to help him, how little progress they had made, and how impatient they were becoming. He thought of the night they had spent in the house with Remus during his transformation, the terrible sounds Remus had made, the sight of him lying, broken and bleeding, on the dirty floor the next morning. Making up his mind, James looked at Sirius, who seemed to be having the same types of thoughts. Their eyes met and James knew that Sirius agreed: it was worth giving up their torment of Snape for a few months if it meant a chance at helping their friend.

"Okay," James said after a few moments. Lily raised her eyebrows. "Okay, you have my word. We won't lay a wand on Snape for the rest of the year."

"Unless he comes after us first," interjected Sirius.

James nodded. "You can't expect us to just ignore him if he starts cursing us again."

"Fine," said Lily. "That's fair. Your word?"

"Our word," Sirius agreed, raising his right hand up as though taking a solemn oath.

Lily smiled. "Well that was easy enough," she said. "And to be honest, James, I'm shocked you couldn't figure this out on your own."

"Why's that?" asked James somewhat dejectedly, trying not to think of all of their grand plans for messing with Snape that would have to be postponed until the following year.

"Because the Quidditch pitch is covered with knotgrass," she said, green eyes twinkling.

"Bloody hell," muttered James, feeling rather thick, but his friends didn't seem to care that he had been ignorant of this particular detail.

"Perfect!" said Peter.

"Yeah, thanks Evans," said Sirius.

Lily, however, was surveying them again curiously. "So," she said slowly, "where's the fourth musketeer?"

"Hmm?" asked James, perplexed.

"What in the bloody hell is a musketeer?" asked Sirius, looking affronted.

"The Three Musketeers? You know, the book?" All three boys stared back at her blankly. "Oh never mind. Remus. Why isn't he over here scheming and plotting with you lot?"

"Oh…er, he mentioned having to go to the library after dinner," James lied, glancing at Sirius and Peter, who looked uncomfortable. Truthfully, he had no idea where Remus was; James, Sirius, and Peter had rushed so quickly out of the Great Hall after dinner to further discussion of their plan that they had failed to find out what would be occupying Remus that evening.

"Yeah," said Sirius, picking up the story with ease. "James and I aren't allowed back in the library at the moment. Pince has got a bit short with us of late."

"Smart lady, that Pince," grinned Lily.

"Ah well, we'll be back on her good side before long," James said.

"Yep," Sirius added, smirking and leaning confidently back in his chair. "No one can resist our charm, Evans, didn't you know?"

Lily snorted derisively. "Is that so? I think I'll take that bet, Black," she said, standing up and stretching before making her way back over to the girls' table. Adin leaned in conspiratorially upon her return, clearly questioning Lily as to what the boys had wanted.

"All right," said James, turning away after watching Lily for a moment and lowering his voice. "So now we know how to get the knotgrass, that's the last thing we needed…"

Peter paged through a stack of parchment that had been hiding under his Herbology book and pulled out his star chart.

"Here we are," he said. "Next full moon is in a week."

"So we'll get the knotgrass at midnight a week from tonight…"

"…and then we can start the potion the next day…"

"It'll take more than a month to brew the potion…"

"…and then we can start on the transfiguration…"

"…we'll figure out a way to get the other book from the Ministry…"

"…and we'll be able to transform easily by the end of the term, at least!" James finished, grinning at them both in excitement.

"Psst," said Peter, nodding toward the portrait hole, where Remus had just entered the common room, looking glum.

"Hey! REMUS!" Sirius shouted across the room, earning more annoyed glances from the other Gryffindors and an exasperated " _Really_ , Black!" from Newlyn Gallit. Remus shuffled over to them.

"Hullo," he mumbled. James looked at him with concern.

"Who spat in your pumpkin juice?" asked Sirius, also eyeing Remus's demeanor with worry.

Remus just shrugged, and not meeting any of their eyes, muttered, "I think I'll go upstairs, if that's all right. See you later."

And with that, he disappeared up the dormitory staircase.

"What was that about?" James frowned.

"I tell you, he's been acting strange since we got back to school. Wonder what's up with him?" said Sirius.

"Let's go find out," said James, standing up and collecting his things.

Remus had only just entered the dormitory and thrown his bag onto his bed when the door banged open and James, Sirius, and Peter walked in, all looking at him curiously. Swallowing hard, Remus started unpacking his books, trying to ignore them as they clambered into the room.

"Remus," said James cheerfully. "What's wrong, mate?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, hopping onto the end of Remus's bed and knocking off the pile of books Remus had just stacked there. "What's got you so moony, Moony?"

"Don't call me that," Remus snapped, bending over to pick up the books.

"Aw, come on, just a bit of fun," said Sirius. "Lighten up."

Remus ignored him, now stacking his books neatly on his bedside table. No one spoke for a few moments. There was an odd sense of deja vu for Remus, knowing as he did that their friendship was ending, but this time it was the others who were playing dumb. He wished they wouldn't. It would all be so much easier if they were honest about not wanting anything to do with him. Remus refused to look at the three of them and instead stared at the canopy above his bed when he spoke, his throat tight.

"Look, I know what you lot are doing and you don't have to anymore, I don't care."

James and Sirius looked at each other, confused.

"Don't care about what?"

"What are we doing?"

"You don't have to pretend to be my friends anymore!" Remus said, his voice louder than he intended due to the unexpected reappearance of that foreign little feeling of anger. "I know that you're done with me, I'm not thick. Can we just forget it all and stop pretending, please?"

He chanced a glance at the three of them. James and Peter looked thoroughly confused, while Sirius was now gazing back at him through narrowed eyes.

"What do you mean, 'pretending?' We're not pretending anything, you _are_ our friend," said Sirius.

"Why would you think that, Remus?" Peter asked.

"Like I said, I'm not thick –"

"Well you're doing a pretty good impression of it," snapped Sirius.

"I get it, all right?" Remus said, shouting now, unable at this moment to keep the anger buried. He could not fathom why they were feigning ignorance and continuing this charade. "Why would you want to be friends with me? I could have killed you that night! Or worse, I could have turned you into something terrible…something like me!"

"Is _that_ what this is about?" said Sirius, almost laughing.

"Remus," said James softly. "Why would you think those things? Of course we still want to be your friend. We told you months ago, we don't care that you're a werewolf."

Remus flinched at the word.

"Yeah?" he said angrily, taking a step toward James. "Well you've sure got a funny way of showing it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" barked Sirius, now jumping off of Remus's bed and going over to stand next to James. "What in the bloody hell are you on about?"

"You think I don't notice that you're not including me in things? That you're talking about me when I'm not there? That you've been planning things without me?"

"That doesn't mean we don't want to be your friend," said Peter. "We're all friends – best friends – remember?"

"I get it…I know what's going on," said Remus, now gripping his hair in his own frustration. "Just because we made some stupid pact last year, you're acting like you don't care. But you saw me! You saw what I become every month…what I am! I get it. I get why you don't want anything to do with me anymore!"

The desperation in his voice shocked him. He had convinced himself that this confrontation would not need to happen, that his being phased out of the group would be a quiet process, a tacit agreement that the Marauders were now only three. But he was glad now that they were hashing it out, glad that it was in the open and that after this, it would all be over and he could move on…

James and Sirius were looking at each other again, and even through his anger and sadness, Remus felt a small pang of jealousy at their ability to somehow always communicate perfectly without even speaking to one another. He wondered fleetingly how long it would be before the Marauders became only two…before they phased Peter out as well…

The pair seemed to come to some kind of unspoken agreement, because the next second James turned back to Remus and said, "All right then, you want to know what we're up to?"

"What do you mean, what you're up to?" he asked weakly after a beat.

James didn't answer, but turned toward his bed and started digging through his bag. Finding whatever he was looking for, he straightened and tossed a book to Remus, who caught it with fumbling, uncertain fingers.

"We've been researching," James said. "We've been figuring out a way to help you during your transformations."

Remus looked down at the book in his hands. It appeared to be a very old, very beat-up copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. Remus stared at it, nonplussed.

"What is this?"

"You'll need the password," James told him. "We've charmed it so that no one can see what it really is unless they have the password."

"Just point your wand at it," Peter instructed quietly. "And say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

Confused and with shaking hands, Remus dug in his pocket for his wand, pointed it at the cover of the book, and said with a wavering voice, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

At once, the book in his hands transformed into a much more pristine version of itself, with a gleaming title written in purple script – _Animated Animagi: Connecting with the Beast Inside of You_. He gazed at it for several long moments…trying to understand…his mind working sluggishly until, finally, it caught up to what James had told him before: _"We've been figuring out a way to help you during your transformations."_

"Animagi?" he whispered, horrified. "You're trying to become Animagi?"

Sirius appeared to have gotten over any previous anger and was now bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

"Yes! If we can turn into animals, we can stay with you when you transform and you won't have to be alone anymore!"

"We can't stop the transformations from happening," said James. Then he added in a tone that suggested that he was personally offended by his own irrelevance at the idea, "You were right, there's no cure at all."

Peter nodded. "But we can make the time when you're in your –" he lowered his voice to a whisper "– _wolf form_ better for you."

Remus sunk down onto his bed and scrubbed his hands over his face, still gazing at the cover of the book in his lap. He didn't know whether to laugh or use the book to smack them all upside the head. This was unbelievable, absurd even.

"We didn't want to tell you," said James. "We wanted to wait until we had sussed it out and were able to transform with you. But it's, er, taking a mite longer than we expected to get started."

Heart beating wildly, Remus looked up at them all, still in partial shock. "You're trying to become Animagi? For me?"

"Well…yes," said Sirius easily.

"No," Remus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "No way. There's no way you can do this."

"Why not?" asked James.

"It's too advanced! It's too dangerous! You think you can just turn into animals like _that_? Animagus spells can go horribly wrong! It's bloody illegal, for one…"

Sirius just grinned and started ticking off his fingers in response to the offered arguments.

"It's not too advanced for James and me, and we'll help Peter along, no problem. Don't care if it's dangerous, that just makes it more fun. Yes, we think we can just turn into animals _like that_ , that's the whole point, you git. The spells won't go horribly wrong because James and I are about the best second years to have ever been at Hogwarts since Gryffindor himself and you know it…"

"And the fact that _it is illegal_?" repeated Remus with incredulity.

Sirius shrugged. "That only matters if you get caught. And we won't get caught."

"Look Remus," said James. "We've talked about this, we've researched it, we've started the process, and we're going to do it. You can help us or not, but we're going to do it either way, and it'd probably go faster with your help to be honest."

Remus stared at the three of them in turn, barely believing what they had just revealed to him. He thought back to the way they had been acting, to their secrecy, and he tried to comprehend the fact that they were not abandoning him at all, but were doing everything in their power to _help_ him. Not only did they really, truly not care that he was a werewolf, they were willing to risk everything – their lives included – to make his life more bearable. He could not fathom why they cared so much about him. But he also could not, at that moment, have been more grateful for their friendship.

The least he could do was try to keep them from seriously maiming themselves in the process.

"Okay," he said slowly, suppressing a strange urge to laugh. "Okay. I still don't think it's a good idea. I think you're all complete nutters, in fact, but if you're going to do it either way, then I'd like to try and help you."

Sirius and James both broke into devilish grins that had become very familiar to Remus.

"Excellent!" said Peter. "We'll have to tell you all about what we've found out so far."

The three boys climbed onto Remus's bed with him, pulling the red curtains tightly shut, and Sirius muttered what he claimed to be a Silencing Charm so that Goomer would not be able to overhear them if he came up to bed. They all settled in and began telling Remus about potions and spells and books that they would need, but Remus could barely listen. His head was still spinning at the lengths to which they would go for him, their unlimited acceptance of him. And right then, as terrified as he was of what they were planning, Remus had never loved his friends more.


	18. 2-8 or 'The Wrong Side of Curfew'

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews! It thrills me to hear that people like this story. I may not be posting next week due to the holiday, but I'll be back before long._

 _I realized that I never have posted a disclaimer, so just in case you are unaware, everything you recognize in this story is owned by J.K. Rowling and not by me. She's brilliant, and I would never dream of pretending to have a thimble's worth of her creativity and talent._

 _Now...Lily! Snape! Dumbledore! It's a dramatic one, folks..._

* * *

 **Chapter 18 - 2.8 or "A Tad Bit on the Wrong Side of Curfew"**

* * *

"I'm going to kill him…"

"Where is the idiot? He's going to make us miss our chance…"

"If we're not down there in seventeen minutes, we'll have to wait until next month to get started…"

It was the night of the full moon, the night when they would have to pick the knotgrass exactly at midnight for the potion that would be their first step toward becoming Animagi. There was only one problem – it was exactly seventeen minutes to midnight and Peter was nowhere to be found. He, Sirius, and James had all shown up a solid twenty minutes late to Potions that afternoon, as they had (rather ironically) gotten held up while preparing the initial ingredients for the Animagus potion in their dormitory. Unamused, Professor Slughorn had assigned them each separate detentions, and though James had returned from his stint with Hagrid two hours prior, and Sirius finished up his work with Filch not long after that, Peter had still not returned. James and Sirius were now alone in the Gryffindor common room, growing more and more impatient by the second.

"He should have been back over an hour ago," James muttered, glancing at his wristwatch for the fifth time in a minute.

"Slughorn never keeps students in detention this late. He must be somewhere else," said Sirius, pacing in front of the fire. "What's he playing at, not being here? He knows how important this is."

"He sure picked a great time to start being more independent," muttered James darkly.

"We've got to go without him. He'll whine about it, but we haven't got a choice. We can't wait another month to get this started."

James nodded and tossed Sirius his winter cloak from one of the squishy armchairs, swinging his own across his shoulders. Once clasped, he plucked up his broomstick that had been lying idly on a nearby table, and started toward the portrait hole, Sirius following closely behind. They had decided earlier that day to take the broomstick with them as a cover story – if they were caught on the Quidditch pitch, they'd rather get detention for sneaking out for a fly instead of having some nosy teacher asking questions about why they needed freshly-picked knotgrass.

Once in the corridor, James threw the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them. It was rather bulky with the two growing boys in their thick winter cloaks and James holding his broomstick awkwardly in front of him, but after a bit of rearranging, they began their trek through the castle.

"If he whines about it, I'm going to hex his bloody lips off," James grumbled. "We've sat detention with Slughorn loads of times and he's never kept us past ten."

"One time he let us go after thirty minutes, remember?" said Sirius lowly.

James's response fell silent as they passed a pair of patrolling prefects. The boys made their way carefully down to the entrance hall, which was mercifully empty, and squeezed out through the massive oak doors and onto the grounds. It was an unseasonably warm winter night, crisp and clear. The moon was so bright and the grounds so well-illuminated by it that they didn't even need to light their wands. James glanced again at his watch.

"Five minutes," he said, picking up his pace.

"I still don't think we brew the potion in the dormitory," Sirius said, revisiting a discussion they had been having for the past week.

"I know," sighed James, "but we don't have another good option."

"But Goomer –"

"– won't ask too many questions. You know he won't, Sirius. He's not a snitch."

"And the house where Remus transforms? I still think that's our best option."

"It won't work. We'd have to skive off too many lessons to get all the way down there so many times a day. It'd get suspicious," said James, exasperated at the rehashing of the same argument.

Sirius frowned, searching his brain for a place in the castle where they could brew a potion undetected for over a month. They stumbled a bit down the hill, trying to keep as much of themselves covered by the cloak as possible, before turning onto the path toward the pitch. The tall goal posts loomed in the distance like beacons glinting in the moonlight. James checked his watch again.

"Three minutes," James said.

Sirius slapped his forehead with his hand, an epiphany striking him. "What about the secret passage behind the mirror? The big one on the fourth floor? We could brew the potion in there!"

James bit his lip, considering it. "It's not a bad idea," he conceded thoughtfully. "Only we don't know how many others know about that passageway. Anyone could stumble across it."

"Yeah, but that's a risk we'd just have to take," said Sirius as they hurried toward the pitch. "If we brew it in the dorm, we _know_ someone else will see it. If we brew it in the passageway, there's only a _chance_ someone would find it, and it's not as if they're going to know what it is…"

James pulled the cloak off of them and pocketed it as they stepped onto the field. He placed his broom gently in the grass and then looked at his watch once more.

"One minute," he muttered, looking around the ground for some sign of the knotgrass. Sirius, too, started searching, spreading out away from James and lighting his wand to see better. He was just beginning to get anxious that they would miss their window when he heard James's shout.

"Got it!" he called, waving Sirius over from underneath the far goal posts. "A whole patch of it."

Sirius hurried over to him. James was staring at his watch, a determined look on his face.

"Three…two…one…now!"

They both reached down and pulled up several handfuls of the grass, which closely resembled normal grass, but had tiny, clover-like flowers attached to the ends. Once their pockets were properly stuffed, they stood up and grinned at each other.

"Well that was anticlimactic," Sirius said as they began walking back to the edge of the pitch to get James's broom.

"Now the hard part, though," said James. "We'd best start paying attention in Potions. If we muck this up and have to start all over, we'll lose months of time."

Sirius nodded and continued walking as James bent down to retrieve his broomstick. "We can handle it. Potions isn't difficult as long as we're paying attention, and it'll be easier to focus without Gin as my partner, I've got to say…"

James didn't answer. Turning around, Sirius realized that James had stopped several paces behind him, standing at the spot where he had picked up his broomstick, staring longingly up at the night sky.

"What are you doing?" Sirius called to him.

James smiled back sheepishly. "It's not every day I get a chance to fly at night…"

Sirius stared at him. "You want to fly? _Now?_ "

"Just for a bit?" James smiled even bigger. "You can have a go too, if you want. There's nothing like flying at night…"

"You're completely mental, you know that?"

"Please?" James said, his grin only broadening.

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But if you get us caught, I'm going to tell Peter that it was all your idea to leave him behind tonight. You know he's not going to shut up about it tomorrow."

"Deal," James agreed, mounting his broom with unbridled excitement.

Sirius wandered to the edge of the Quidditch pitch as James took off into the night sky. After a few minutes of standing there mindlessly, he laid down on the hard, winter-dusted grass and stretched out on his back, staring idly into the clear darkness. It truly was a beautiful night, with the stars winking at him and the moon bathing his face in a cool light. Every once in a while, James would zoom in and then out of his line of vision again and he would smile. He would never understand why James was so obsessed with flying, but more and more, Sirius found that anything that made James happy was okay by him.

Despite James insisting that he would only be in the air for a few minutes, Sirius lost track of time as he lay there, pleasantly sheathed by his warm winter cloak. It was quite comfortable, actually, lying in the grass. He had never spent much time outdoors, certainly not at night, certainly not with an unobstructed view of thousands of stars staring down at him and a best friend whooping gleefully from above. They should do this more often, he thought – maybe drag Remus and Peter with them next time, maybe bring some butterbeer and sweets from the kitchens, maybe when it was slightly warmer outside…

A long howl somewhere in the far distance met his ears and suddenly Sirius was sick with himself for being so content in the moment. Remus was not too far away, broken and in pain, and here was Sirius, lying on his back on the Quidditch pitch, _admiring the moon_ for Merlin's sake. They had sneaked down there to get the ingredients for a potion to help Remus, not to have a good time of it.

"Oi! James!" Sirius called, sitting up. "We should get back!"

James, though, was busy looping in and out of the far goal posts and did not hear him.

"You're quite right, Mr. Black," said a calm voice from just behind him. "I'd say you're a tad bit on the wrong side of curfew."

Sirius spun around wildly and his heart dropped to somewhere around his navel. Albus Dumbledore, clad in a thick purple cloak, was sitting cross-legged in the grass, not ten steps from where Sirius had been lying.

"Professor!" Sirius squeaked, his voice about an octave higher than usual. Dumbledore smiled serenely at him, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Good evening, Sirius," he said, a slightly amused note to his voice. "Or perhaps I should say good morning, as I believe it is close to one o'clock."

"Professor, we, er – well, we couldn't sleep, and James fancied a fly, so we, erm, I guess –"

"Sneaked down to the Quidditch pitch after midnight?"

Sirius swallowed, knowing full-well that there really was no way for him to talk them out of this. Dumbledore didn't look angry, at least – he still had a warm smile on his face.

"I had received a tip-off earlier in the night that some students might try to sneak down to the Quidditch pitch after curfew. I was skeptical, naturally, as I believe all of my students are well aware of the school rules against nighttime excursions." He laced his fingers together and twiddled his thumbs idly. "I'm sure you can imagine my surprise, then, as I was walking down to the kitchens for a bedtime snack, I happened a glance out of the Transfiguration corridor windows, and what should be illuminated in the moonlight, but a lone figure flying up and down the Quidditch pitch – with quite impressive skill, may I add."

"Er, right, that would have been James."

Dumbledore nodded wisely. "I had surmised as much."

"Who tipped you off, Professor?" asked Sirius, trying to sound politely puzzled instead of mutinous.

"That is neither here nor there," Dumbledore answered, waving a hand dismissively. There was a long silence and Sirius continued staring at the headmaster with no idea what to say. He had never had a conversation with Dumbledore before. And Dumbledore seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, sitting in the grass, watching as James – who was still oblivious to the goings-on below him – looped around the pitch with glee.

"Er, Professor?" said Sirius after a minute. "Should I call James down, then?"

Stretching out his arms behind him, Dumbledore smiled, leaned back, and craned his neck to get a better view of James.

"Let's give him another minute," he said. "It truly is a beautiful night…very rare this time of year."

"Er…okay," said Sirius, thoroughly discomposed.

"Professor McGonagall and I were discussing you and Mr. Potter, just the other day, actually," Dumbledore said as though the setting were completely natural for casual conversation.

"You were?"

"Oh yes. Professor McGonagall is of the belief that the pair of you have now set a record for the most number of detentions ever acquired by any students below fourth year."

"But we're only second years…"

Dumbledore turned his attention away from James and surveyed Sirius, his blue eyes scanning Sirius's face as though like an x-ray. Sirius blinked and looked away.

"Yes, indeed, a fact that has only added to the, er, impressive nature of your record. Perhaps detentions and letters to parents are just not a deterrent for some."

Sirius made an inadvertent noise low in his throat at the mention of letters sent to his parents. He immediately tried to cover it with a cough, though Dumbledore did not seem fooled. He was still surveying him closely.

"You know, your mother came to see me last year, right after your sorting."

Sirius glanced at the headmaster and then looked away again, embarrassed and oddly guilty all of a sudden. "I heard," he said softly.

"We don't re-sort except under extraordinary circumstances, when it's clear that the student is deeply unhappy with his or her house. It's the entire philosophy behind the Sorting Hat, which works to see you as you are, free from external considerations. And it is clear to me and to anyone who has observed you since you began at Hogwarts that you are an apt fit for Gryffindor."

"I like being a Gryffindor," Sirius told him with a sudden, uncomfortable need to express that fact.

"Indeed." Dumbledore paused and admired the sky for a few silent moments before turning back to Sirius. "I have known many generations of Blacks, Sirius," he said. Sirius felt his mouth go very dry. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but there is a portrait of your great-great-grandfather hanging in my office. Very opinionated fellow." He paused again before adding gently, "You're very different from the other Blacks I've known."

Dumbledore's words pierced through him, leaving a soft pounding in his ears. Here he was, out of bounds after midnight, breaking about ten school rules in one go, discovered by no less than the headmaster himself, and Dumbledore had just paid him about the biggest compliment he could have asked for.

"Thanks," Sirius said quietly.

Dumbledore smiled at him and looked as if he might say more, but right then there was a soft thump behind him and Sirius turned to see James landing gracefully in the grass, his mouth open and his eyes huge behind his glasses.

"Professor Dumbledore!" James yelped.

"Hello James," Dumbledore said, rising from the grass. Sirius followed suit. "Did you have a nice fly?"

"Er, yes…" he said, eyes darting between the headmaster and Sirius, who shrugged at him.

"Well we'd better be getting back to the castle, then, boys, unless you were planning on finding a new adventure to lead you into trouble this evening?"

"Yes…I mean, no…I mean, right…we should be getting back up to the school then," James stammered.

They began walking back toward the castle, James and Sirius exchanging meaningful glances every few steps as Dumbledore strolled along ahead of them, humming softly. Sirius was immensely thankful that James had pocketed the Invisibility Cloak, along with the handfuls of knotgrass. He wondered how extensive their punishment would be; they had never run afoul of Dumbledore before and did not know what to expect. No one said anything until they reached the castle. Dumbledore flicked his wand at the giant oak doors, which creaked open in front of him.

"After you," he said, bowing toward the pair of them. Sirius glanced at James again, who was still wide-eyed and guilty-looking, his broom thrown over his shoulder.

"Professor," Sirius said, as they started up the marble staircase. "Er, are we going to be punished for being caught on the Quidditch pitch?"

James threw him an incredulous look, as if he had been hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't remember that they had done anything wrong until Sirius had reminded him.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore lightly. "I shall catch Professor McGonagall up on the evening's activities in the morning. No sense in waking her up. She doesn't like to be disturbed at night, to be quite honest, and would perhaps be a bit more short with you than her usual pleasant demeanor."

Sirius grimaced, making a note to never wake McGonagall if he could help it. A few of the portraits watched them curiously as they proceeded through the corridors and up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she raised her eyebrows in surprise at them.

"Headmaster!" she said. "What in the world…?"

"Just found a few wandering Gryffindors, dear Lady," he said, smiling at her. "I shall leave them here, I think. Now," he turned to the two of them, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black – as beautiful a night as it was, there is no excuse for sneaking out so late to wander the grounds, to go for a fly, or otherwise to be out of bounds. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," they both mumbled shamefacedly.

"Good," he said cheerfully. "Off to bed with you both, then."

James muttered the password to the Fat Lady, who tsked at them but still swung her portrait open. When it had safely shut behind them, Sirius let out a long breath.

 _"There you are!_ "

They both started. It was Peter, jumping up from the chair closest to the fire, looking positively fretful.

"Where were you? It's nearly half-one, I thought you'd have been back ages ago!"

"Hark who's talking!" said James angrily. "We got caught by Dumbledore. Where in the bloody hell were you?"

" _Dumbledore?"_ Peter whispered, horrified. "Oh no…oh no…it's all my fault."

"What did you do?" Sirius snarled, making his way closer to Peter, who stepped back automatically.

"I didn't mean to!" he squeaked, fingers twisting nervously. "It was Snape! He attacked me when I was on my way back from detention!"

"Snape?"

"He attacked you?"

"What did he do? What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him about the knotgrass, I swear!" Peter said very quickly, as if this absolved him from other wrongdoing. Sirius was still advancing on him slowly and Peter backed away, putting one of the squishy armchairs between them.

"What _did_ you tell him, then?"

"I…I…I told him you were wanting to go for a fly, but I didn't tell him when or anything. I'm sorry! He had pushed me into a broom cupboard and was threatening me! I only just got out of there a little bit ago. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do!"

Sirius stopped walking and folded his arms across his chest, his anger at Peter starting to grow into a deep rage at the thought of Snape attacking his friend. He glanced at James, who was still glaring at Peter in a disgusted sort of way.

"You couldn't have made something up?" James growled, and Peter flinched as though James had struck him. "You couldn't have said we were sneaking down to the kitchens or some rot like that?"

"I'm sorry!" Peter repeated, his voice urgent and desperate. "I'm sorry! He said he was going to put the…the Imperius Curse on me…that he'd make me tell him that way."

James huffed and sat down next to the fire, his hand raking through his hair, causing it stand up in every direction.

"Well I guess it could have been worse," he muttered. "Dumbledore didn't see us getting the knotgrass anyhow."

"So you got it, then?" Peter said hopefully.

"Yeah." Sirius pulled the handful of knotgrass from his pocket to show him. "We got it. Would have got back just fine if James here hadn't decided that it was a fantastic time for a fly." Sirius gave James a very exasperated look, to which James had the right mind to look properly ashamed.

"And Dumbledore caught you?" Peter asked in a small, fearful voice, his watery eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. "Are you going to be expelled?"

" _Expelled_?" James echoed, appalled.

"Of course we won't be expelled for sneaking down to the Quidditch pitch, you moron," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"That's what Snape said! He said he was going to get you expelled!"

"Well then he's a bigger idiot than you," snapped Sirius.

"What a slimy little git," James said, glowering. "Sneaking 'round trying to get us expelled, attacking Peter, threatening him with some seriously dark magic…I'm going to hex him into next year when I see him."

"Can't," said Sirius dully. James stared at him, a look of incredulity on his face. "We promised Evans, remember? Gave her our word."

" _What?_ But he started it! He attacked Peter! We're not going to just sit by –"

"Not much we can do. We're not breaking our word to Evans." The beginning of the school year and his discussion with her about Regulus had endeared Lily Evans to Sirius. He had no interest in breaking a promise he had made to her. At the look on James's face, though, he added, half-jokingly, "Though we didn't say anything to her about not beating him into a greasy pulp."

This didn't seem to appease James, but he had no argument. He huffed again and crossed his arms, frowning into the fire for a moment before nodding curtly.

"Fine," he said. "I'm going to bed. Tomorrow's going to be rough, and we've got to get the potion started too."

"And who knows what McGonagall's going to do to us," Sirius muttered, before adding sarcastically, " _That_ should be fun."

* * *

Transfiguration the next morning was a quiet affair. Not wanting to anger an already-irritated Professor McGonagall even further, James and Sirius spent the class easily transfiguring their white rabbits into fluffy slippers and doing their best to not cause any trouble, for the first time ever. Professor McGonagall's lips had tightened into a very thin line when she had seen them walk in, but later, as she strode around inspecting the students' work, she peered down at both Sirius and James's perfect slippers (complete with fluffy white pom-poms on the heels) and nodded curtly.

"Nicely done, boys," she said as though against her better judgment. "And I will need to see the both of you after class."

When they approached her desk after the bell rang, though, she was talking to Mary Macdonald about her essay, and glanced up at James and Sirius as they lingered behind.

"Head on to my office, both of you," she said, giving her wand a sweeping wave that James understood to unlock her office door. "I shall join you shortly."

James and Sirius grimaced at each other – the fact that she was making them meet her in her office instead of just assigning them detentions in the classroom did not bode well. The pair made their way slowly up the corridor and down one set of stairs to McGonagall's office with much dread.

James had only been in McGonagall's office once before, and they had been in quite a lot of trouble then too. Upon entering, Sirius flopped into a chair in front of her desk while James paced back and forth, waiting for McGonagall to make her entrance. Feeling quite guilty about the fact that they had only been caught because of him, James fiddled with his wand and looked around the office for something to distract him. McGonagall's desk was very clean – the only things in sight were a dark blue quill, an ink pot, and a roll of crisp parchment. Behind the desk sat a large, gleaming bookshelf, filled to bursting with orderly books. He looked at them curiously, wondering vaguely what someone like Professor McGonagall liked to read in her spare time.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked from behind him.

"Just looking," James shrugged, reading the spines of the books: _Where There's a Wand, There's a Way_ ; _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration; Quidditch Through the Ages_ (James grinned at this one); _Sites of Historical Sorcery…_

James gasped, not believing his eyes. Sandwiched on the top shelf, between _Quintessence: A Quest_ and _Notable Magical Names of Our Times_ was a dark blue spine with a title printed in embossed golden text: _Advanced and Radical Human Transfiguration_ by Falco Aesalon.

"Sirius!" James said, his voice coming out in an awed whisper, his heartbeat racing.

But at that moment, McGonagall marched in and James jumped away from the bookshelf as though he had been scalded. Sirius looked at him curiously.

"Sit," McGonagall ordered, before pointing her wand at the door, which closed with a loud snap behind her. She turned and surveyed the two of them, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly, and waited until James had made his way to the empty chair before speaking.

"I had a very enlightening conversation with Professor Dumbledore over breakfast this morning," she said. "He recounted to me the thrilling tale of your adventures from last night. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

James swallowed and tore his thoughts away from the book that was winking at him from behind McGonagall's head. "It was my fault, Professor. I couldn't sleep and I thought maybe going for a fly would help, and I made Sirius come with me…"

"You _made_ him? Black has his own body and his own brain – though Merlin knows he does not always use it for its noblest of purposes – and I am assuming, Potter, that you did not physically force him to sneak down to the Quidditch pitch in the middle of the night with you?"

"Er – well I begged him, Professor. Pleaded with him, in fact. Like I said, it was all my fault."

"As honorable as it is for you to try to protect your friend, Potter, it's not going to work. You both are free to make your own choices and both of you made a very poor one last night."

James decided to change tactics. Trying to channel Sirius at his most charming, James smiled up at McGonagall and said, "I know it was a poor choice, Professor, but it was a poor choice made with the desire to help the Gryffindor Quidditch team. We've a match against Slytherin next month and I was just trying to get in some extra practice to keep on form."

Sirius seemed to have picked up on James's strategy. He straightened in his chair and assumed his usual expression of utmost innocence. "All of the Slytherin Chasers are sixth and seventh years, Professor. Each of them must weigh about a hippogriff more than James."

"Well that's not exactly –"

"For Gryffindor to stand a chance, you know, our Chasers have to be on top form," Sirius continued, ignoring James's protest. "Any extra practice will help."

"Right," said James. "And surely _you_ understand, Professor, just how much we want to win the House Cup this year…"

Hands now on her hips, McGonagall stared down at the pair of them, her patience evidently waning. In the time they had been speaking, her nostrils had grown wider and her lips noticeably thinner.

"If your plan was to help the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Potter, it has failed miserably," she said sharply. James shrunk a bit in his seat. "I have half a mind to ban you from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year."

 _"What?"_

"No, Professor, please…"

McGonagall held up a hand to silence their protests and they both fell silent at once.

"However," she said, her eyes flashing dangerously, "I do not believe it fair to make the rest of the Quidditch team suffer due to your continual inability to adhere to the school's rules." James breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Your upcoming practice time will be limited though, Potter, as I am awarding you both a month's worth of detentions. I shall also take 50 points from Gryffindor. And let me make myself very clear to both of you – if you are ever caught flying around the Quidditch pitch after curfew again, you will not only be banned from Quidditch, but suspended from this school. Do you understand?"

Both James and Sirius nodded. House points and detention? That was nothing.

"Now get out of here and to your next lesson, both of you. I already sent a message ahead to Professor Slughorn informing him that you would be a few minutes late to Potions."

They exited quickly, eager to put as much distance between themselves and McGonagall as possible. The next set of lessons had already started and the corridors were completely empty. It was only when they had hurried down the stairs that led to the Potions dungeons that James grabbed Sirius's arm and pulled him aside.

"The book," he said without preamble, about to explode from the excitement of his discovery. "McGonagall has the book!"

It took a second for Sirius to register what James had said, but then his jaw fell open and his eyes lit up with excitement.

"You're joking!" he whispered in awe. "The one we need? Are you sure?"

"Positive. Right there on her shelf. McGonagall's an Animagus, she told us so last year! How could we have forgotten?"

They started walking again toward the Potions dungeon.

"We'll have to figure out a way to nick it," said Sirius.

James nodded. "And we'll have to do it so that McGonagall doesn't even realize it's gone."

"Could be tricky…if she catches us breaking into her office…the last thing we'd need is to get caught stealing a book telling us how to become Animagi…"

"We'll figure something out. We always do," said James, pulling the door to the dungeon open.

As the lesson had already started, every head turned to look at the loud creak of the door when they entered. James smirked directly at Snape, who wore an expression of mingled shock and fury at their presence.

"Sorry, Professor," Sirius said to Slughorn, who had paused from dictating instructions to the blackboard to turn and look at them. "We were with Professor McGonagall."

"Quite all right, boys," Slughorn said cheerfully as Sirius navigated the tables to take his seat next to Gin, and James, still sneering at Snape, sat down at the table he usually shared with Remus. "We were just beginning the lesson on Hiccuping Solutions. You haven't missed a thing yet. Now, as I was saying regarding the monkshood…"

The Potions class moved slowly. Slughorn instructed James to partner with Adin and Peter, since Remus was absent. Adin spent much of the class chattering happily to him, though James barely listened, intent on watching Snape, his jaw becoming tighter every time he looked up to see Snape and Lily working together seamlessly.

"James, stop," said Adin, grabbing his wrist as he made to throw a handful of scarab beetles into the simmering cauldron. "We've got to crush those first."

Distracted, he began crushing the scarab beetles with his pestle, still watching Snape with his eyes narrowed. Lily had evidently made a joke, as Snape chuckled and shook his head in an amused sort of way as he cut up his ginger roots. Something rose up within James while he watched them, something unbidden and which he could not explain. He found that he did not want Lily near Snape at all, that he wanted to go over there and bring the cauldron full of boiling hot potion down on Snape's greasy head, wanted to explain to Lily that just because she had been unlucky enough to be partnered with Snape, it didn't mean she needed to be so friendly toward him…

By the time the bell rang, James was glowering so darkly that Adin had all but stopped talking to him, and she made a quick exit out of the dungeon, leaving James and Peter behind to finish cleaning up the work space.

"She never talks to _me_ that much in class," mumbled Peter, watching after Adin's retreating form with a frown.

"What?" James was clearly not listening at all to Peter. "Come on," he muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and waiting for Sirius to catch up to them before leaving the dungeon. James had his eyes fixed securely on the back of Snape's head, which was bobbing along a little farther up the corridor next to Lily's red hair. Many of the students had dispersed and Slughorn had disappeared in the direction toward his office.

"What are you going to do?" Peter whispered, a fearful look on his face.

"What's going on?" asked Sirius, looking back and forth between James and Peter.

James ignored them both and sped up. Snape had just turned the corner into the intersecting corridor that led to the entrance hall.

"Hey! Snivellus!" James shouted as they turned the corner behind him. Snape wheeled around, his hand automatically reaching in his robes for his wand, but he was too late. _"Expelliarmus!"_

The wand flew in a high arc and Sirius caught it easily with one hand, his eyes flashing from James to Snape to Lily, who had jumped back in surprise at the spell and now looked utterly furious. James covered the distance between them in only a few long strides and he did not so much as pause before giving Snape a hard shove in the chest. Snape's back slammed into the corridor wall.

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape spat, stumbling a bit as he tried to straighten his robes. Several students around them stopped walking to watch the proceedings, murmuring curiously.

"What am _I_ doing?" James said, moving closer to Snape, who edged along the wall away from him. "What were _you_ doing, huh? What were you attacking Peter for last night?"

"Er, James…" Sirius said, watching Lily closely, but James paid him no mind.

"Are you so bored with your own pathetic life that you need to insert yourself into ours?" he said, shoving Snape again. Lily whipped out her wand and pointed it at James's neck.

"Back off, Potter," she said in a low, threatening voice.

"Stay out of it, Evans," snapped James, still glaring at Snape. "This isn't your business."

"Oh yes it is!"

James ignored her, still focused on Snape. "You attacked Peter so you could find out what we were up to. You threatened him with a bloody Unforgivable. You went to Dumbledore and tried to get us expelled. Why are you so obsessed with us?"

Snape's eyes flickered to his wand, which Sirius was rolling between his fingers tauntingly across the corridor. He was defenseless.

" _I'm_ obsessed with _you_?" Snape sneered. "I'm not the one who spends all his time planning tricks and spells to use on you. But of course, you think everyone's obsessed with you, don't you Potter? You arrogant –"

James shoved him once more and he stopped talking, a thud echoing around the corridor when his back hit the stone wall.

"Stop it, NOW!" yelled Lily, moving a step closer to James so that the tip of her wand poked into his neck. "I swear to God I'll hex you."

The contact of her wand tip finally caused James's focus on Snape to waver. He turned his head enough to look at her from the corner of his eye. "Why do you care so much anyway? I gave you my word I wouldn't hex him, I never said anything about not pounding his greasy face into the ground."

Before James had even finished speaking, Lily's eyes flared wide with dread and locked directly on Severus, whose face had turned a blotchy, brick red. He was edging along the wall away from them, staring back and forth between the pair, a look of shock and embarrassment on his red face.

"What do you mean, you gave her your word?"

Lily lowered her wand, her voice tight. "Severus, don't…I can explain…"

James crossed his arms and glared at Snape. "Evans made us swear we wouldn't hex you for the rest of the year, Snivelly, didn't you know?"

"Why…why would you…" Snape seemed at a loss for words. Lily moved toward him but he continued to walk backward, away from her, his eyes still bouncing between her and James.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "I just wanted them to leave you alone for once!"

"I don't need your help," he said. "I don't need anyone's help."

"I know! I'm sorry, Severus, really…"

"Just stay away from me," he said, his voice quivering slightly. He turned away from her and looked at Sirius. "Give me my wand, Black," he spat, holding his palm out expectantly.

With a quirk of his head, Sirius smirked and proceeded to toss the wand to the far end of the corridor, where it landed with a clatter, several blue sparks shooting out of the tip of it. Snape hurried over to retrieve it and then disappeared down the corridor that led back to the Slytherin common room.

Lily stared after him, her mouth slightly open in shock at what had just transpired. Some of the other students had begun moving away, a few muttering disappointedly that a real fight had not occurred. Adin broke away from the dispersing crowd and approached where Lily stood frozen.

"Er, Lily? Are you okay?"

Lily, though, ignored her friend. With a flash, she stomped back over to James, who was still standing with his arms crossed, looking annoyed, and she shoved him hard with two hands. He stumbled backward and hit the corridor wall.

"OI!" shouted Sirius, approaching them angrily.

"What is your _problem_ , Potter?" she yelled.

The look of surprise on James's face was soon replaced with indignation as he regained his footing and straightened his robes. "What's _my_ problem? What's _your_ problem, Evans?"

Lily could feel her face burning and could hear the heartbeat in her ears, which only somewhat drowned out the whispers by the spectators left in the corridor. "You're a jerk, James Potter. Stay away from Severus and stay away from me, got it?"

And with one last furious look at him, she turned on her heel and stomped down the hallway toward the entrance hall, Adin hurrying along behind her.

Sirius stared after her, mouth hanging open. "What in the name of Merlin was _that_ all about?"

* * *

Severus did not turn up for lunch in the Great Hall that day, nor could Lily find any trace of him in the corridors between classes, despite searching desperately. In fact, she spent so long lingering outside of the Charms classroom hoping that he would appear that she was a good ten minutes late for Herbology and lost five points for Gryffindor. She glared at James from across the greenhouse throughout most of the lesson, though he seemed to be pointedly ignoring her existence and carrying on with Sirius as usual. When she arrived at History of Magic for the last lesson of the day, she was pleased to note that James, Sirius, and Peter had skived off and she would not have to spend the whole hour glowering at him.

But when Severus did not appear at dinner that evening either, Lily began to worry. She ate slowly, hoping that maybe he would show up late to avoid the crowds, but there was no sign of him. When Lily and Adin were the very last students left in the Great Hall, she conceded hope and dejectedly admitted that they could go back to Gryffindor Tower.

Many students – Adin included – had peppered her with questions all afternoon about what had transpired and Lily was getting tired of the accusatory nature of their interrogations. She got the feeling that Adin thought it was something akin to lunacy to have shoved James Potter into a wall and to have told him off in front of a group of witnesses, especially in defense of someone as unpopular as Severus. By the time they had climbed through the portrait hole that evening, Lily was ready to find some solitude, and excused herself to turn in early, though she was still too upset to be properly tired.

It was only once she had stepped into the shower that she finally allowed herself to cry, letting the hot water wash away the tears that slipped out. Severus's pride had always been of the utmost importance to him and she truly did not know if he would forgive her for what she had done. She had thought that making James and Sirius promise to lay off of him would allow Severus time to move on a bit, would give him the opportunity to refocus on some of his other interests, that maybe she would be able to have a conversation with him again that did not revolve around how much he hated her housemates. Yet in an effort to get her best friend back, she may have pushed him away for good.

And then there was James Potter. James Potter, who was clever and funny and very popular and had always been nice to her, and who – much to her own frustration – had made her stomach flutter nervously ever since the year before. She hated the animosity between him and Severus, and she hated even more that she did not hate James Potter. She would try to ignore him, she decided resolutely; she would ignore his existence from this point on, would smother the fluttering in her stomach with her own resolve, and would figure out how to patch things up with Severus. But would the entire school think she was a freak for doing so?

( _'Freak!'_ Petunia spat at her from the well-tread corner of her memory.)

She emerged from the lavatory a little while later, a cloud of steam billowing into the dormitory behind her, and found Gin sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading a book. Gin looked up at her and gave her a small smile as the steam began to dissipate.

"Hello," she said.

Lily crossed the room to her own bed and began towel drying her hair. "Hi."

Gin went back to her book. Lily threw the damp towel on top of her trunk and then climbed onto her bed, sitting up against the headboard, pulling her old stuffed unicorn Cobb into her lap, and staring at Gin. The other girl paid her no mind, seemingly engrossed in her book, her blonde hair falling across her face.

After a few minutes, Gin seemed to realize she was being observed and looked up at Lily. "What?" she asked, peering around her as if to discover the object of Lily's gaze.

"What are you reading?"

Gin held up the book for Lily to see it was a Defense Against the Dark Arts book. "Just reading about Occlumency," she said lightly. "It's quite interesting." She smiled at her and then turned back to her book.

Suddenly, Lily found that she desperately wanted to talk to someone who would not judge her, and she knew that Gin Leigh was one of the only people in the school who might fit that category at the moment. "You're pretty much the only person I know who hasn't asked me why I shoved James Potter into a wall today."

Gin looked back up at her in surprise and then frowned. "Did you?"

"You didn't hear?" said Lily, disbelieving. "It was right after Potions. People haven't left me alone about it all day."

"Oh!" said Gin, comprehension dawning on her face. "I didn't hear that you shoved him, but I did overhear Bertha Jorkins telling some Hufflepuffs that you hexed his eyebrows off and locked him in Moaning Myrtle's toilet."

Lily huffed but said nothing as a sudden, painful, inexplicable lump obstructed her throat; she blinked quickly and swallowed the lump down. She would not cry again.

Gin was watching her closely. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she said automatically. When Gin didn't respond, Lily shook herself and said, "No, actually." Gin dog-eared the page in her book and set it on her bed, but still did not press Lily further. At times, Lily found Gin's strange quietness to be awkward, but at the moment, it was indescribably comforting. She took a deep breath and said, "Severus is one of my best friends and I did something to try and help him, but he found out and now he's furious with me and I don't know if he'll ever speak to me again. And on top of that, now I've gone and made enemies of Potter and Black – who tend to make the people who they don't like know it loudly and often – and the whole school thinks I'm a nutter and even though I don't want to care about that, I do."

Gin nodded, looking sympathetic. "It's okay to care about what people think."

"Says the girl who could not care less what people say about her."

"That's not true," said Gin. Lily gave her a disbelieving look. "Okay, well sometimes I don't care, that's true, but it's all right that you do."

"Why can't they just leave each other alone? Why do they have to constantly be at each other's throats? It gets so stale, listening to Severus go on and on about how much he hates them. I was just trying to help."

"I don't think you'll ever make much progress, if your goal is to get Snape and Potter to like each other."

Lily pulled her knees up to her chest, the unicorn now sandwiched against her torso. "I know. I just wish things were different, because I like them both…"

She cut off, her face suddenly hot. Gin raised her eyebrows. "You like James, then?"

"No," said Lily, a little too quickly, her face now on fire. "I didn't mean it like that. I like them both as…as friends…"

"It's okay if you do. I won't tell."

Lily shook her head. "Only as friends – I like them all as friends…just as friends."

"Okay," Gin shrugged impassively. Lily tried to determine if she believed her or not, but it was always very difficult to know what Gin was thinking.

"What do you think I should do?"

Uncrossing her legs and stretching them in front of her, Gin leaned back against her own headboard and pondered this for a moment. "Well, I reckon if you care that much about Snape – you said he's one of your best friends – you should try to make up with him. You could explain why you did what you did and he'll either forgive you or he won't. But I think that's all you can do."

"And the others?"

This seemed to take more contemplation, and she paused for several seconds before answering slowly. "If it were me, I guess I'd just leave it alone for now. They won't hex you I don't think…I've never seen them do anything to a Gryffindor, and to be honest I think they might be afraid of you. You're about as good at jinxing as both James and Sirius and they know it, they aren't stupid."

Lily gave her half of a grin and then slid down her bed until she was lying on her back, her feet flat against her blankets and her knees pointed at the ceiling. "Thanks," she said, feeling slightly better. Gin had confirmed the plan that Lily had formed in the shower. The world never seemed to make things easy between Lily and Severus, and today had just been another boulder in the stream that she was forced to navigate around. She would try to make Severus see reason and if he didn't, it just proved he cared more about his own pride than their friendship. And if that were the case, better that she know it now than to allow her relationship with him to further alienate her from the rest of the school.

She would bail the water out as best she could, but she wouldn't allow herself to go down with the boat.


	19. 2-9 or 'A Looking Glass or Something'

_A/N: Thank you, thank you for the reviews! The chapter after this may be delayed a few days...I'm rewriting parts and having some trouble. Happy new year, all!_

* * *

 **Chapter 19 - 2.9 or "Through a Looking Glass or Something"**

* * *

Despite Lily's fear that the whole school would treat her like some sort of leper after her confrontation with James Potter in the corridor, people seemed to forget about it rather quickly. Indeed, by the day after the incident, nobody was treating her any differently – though both James and Sirius kept their distance in the weeks that followed – and things at Hogwarts almost returned to normal.

There was only one major difference: regardless of her stubborn resolve to patch things up with Severus, it seemed that their friendship could not weather this particular storm.

She had approached him after breakfast the morning following her discussion with Gin, but he had brushed her off, claiming he would be late to Transfiguration. She tried again that afternoon, hurrying after him in the corridor, but he slipped away through the chattering masses and did not appear in the Great Hall for dinner that night. He could not hide from her the following day, though, as they once again had a Potions lesson, and she spent the entirety of the hour whispering heated apologies to him over the smoke of their simmering cauldron. He grudgingly admitted that he forgave her, but in the weeks that followed, he remained sullen and distant, only speaking when necessary in Potions and doing his homework on his own instead of meeting her in the library.

Lily's patience and power to look past his stubbornness could only get them so far. Annoyed and frustrated by his inability to move past his own hurt ego, she eventually stopped trying to get him to come around and had started spending considerably more time with her other friends. If he was going to allow their friendship to disintegrate over his own tarnished pride, then she wasn't going to grovel for him, after all.

One blustery day in late March found Lily huddled up with a group of second-year girls in the courtyard during break, desperately trying to help Adin turn her hair back to its natural brown from the lurid green color it had just become. Adin had been attempting to curl her hair around her wand – a new trick she had just read about in _Teen Witch_ that morning – and it now glowed as brightly as if she had just dunked her head in a vat of neon paint.

"What about this Hue-Alteration Charm?" suggested Ev Linney, a cheerful Hufflepuff, flipping through her Charms book. "Or did we try that one already?"

"No, we tried that one first, remember?" said Adin, staring at her reflection in the glass window with a horrified look on her face. "If we can't get this figured out in the next five minutes, I'm gong to Pomfrey. I don't care if I lose points for doing magic during break, there's no way I'm going to Herbology like this."

"It's not so bad," said Raeanne, tilting her head and gazing at Adin, as if the angle made much of a difference. "It's kind of hard-core. You look like one of those mad fans of Deathday Champagne."

"Deathday Champagne?" asked Lily curiously.

"You don't know Deathday?" said Raeanne, turning toward Lily with a shocked expression. "They're only one of the best wizarding bands this side of the Unforgivables!"

Lily shrugged and was about to remind Raeanne that she was a Muggle-born and, thus, didn't have much exposure to wizarding rock, when Adin let out a pitiful moan.

"It _is_ so bad," she said, tearing her eyes away from her own reflection to peer around the courtyard, which was packed with fellow students. "Everybody's looking at me."

Lily peered around. A few people were sneaking curious glances at Adin, but for the most part, no one was paying them any attention. Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on the Gryffindor boys, who were huddled in the near corner of the courtyard, whispering hurriedly to one another. She vaguely wondered what they were up to before remembering that she was supposed to be ignoring their existence.

"Nobody's looking at you," Ev said kindly.

"Where's Mary?" Adin asked Raeanne. "She's the best of all of us at Charms, I bet she could put it right."

"She went to help Goomer finish up his Herbology essay during break," Raeanne told her. "Said they'd meet us in the greenhouse, though I'm not sure she'd be able to suss it out if Lily can't. Maybe Pomfrey _is_ your best bet…"

Ev patted Adin's arm consolingly. "This sort of thing happens all the time. Pomfrey might not even take points…"

This did not seem to appease Adin, though, as she sank down onto one of the stone benches and looked up at Lily with a pleading expression. "Help me, Lily!"

"Okay, okay, give me a minute," Lily said, turning back to the copy of _Teen Witch_ that had started the trouble in the first place. "The charm you tried to use was a simple convection charm, designed to heat your wand so that it would curl your hair…"

"Well that's all great," muttered Adin, losing her patience. "Now how do I get it back to normal?"

"OI! BALINI!" The girls all started and turned to look at Zelda Carmichael, a Slytherin with light, pouty features, who was now laughing malevolently from the next bench over. "That's a good look for you! LOADS better from your usual color, really."

"Sod off, Carmichael," Adin mumbled, going very red, as much of the courtyard had turned to look at her after the shout.

"It really says a lot about you, doesn't it?" called Darlene Burke from next to Carmichael. "When it's an upgrade to look like a troll just used your head as a snotrag?"

Lily turned away from the Slytherin girls' peals of laughter and made to usher Adin out of the courtyard. "Come on, let's get out of here."

They had not taken one step though when the laughter behind her turned into loud shrieks and Lily whipped around to see both Burke and Carmichael clutching at their noses, from which flowing ringlets of nose hair were now pouring. Both Slytherin girls hurried toward the castle as every student in the courtyard turned toward them, laughing at the sight. By the time they had disappeared into the first-floor corridor, Lily could glimpse the nose hair growing past their chins, looking like deformed, spiraling beards. She laughed heartily at the sight and then looked around automatically toward the corner, where both James and Sirius were stowing their wands and smirking proudly.

"I know how to put your hair right, if you want," said a quiet voice from behind the girls. They all turned to find Severus standing nervously in the shadow of a nearby pillar, his eyes flickering back and forth between Adin and Lily, his fingers twiddling his wand.

Adin frowned and shifted away from him instinctively. "How do you know how to fix it?"

"I was watching when you did it," Severus said. He was uncomfortable, Lily could tell, and it did not take a lot of posturing to understand why. Lily could not remember Severus ever even talking to another girl at Hogwarts before and each of their group was now giving him her full attention.

He was gazing above all of their heads when he continued, "You twirled your wand clockwise instead of anti-clockwise, which affects the superficial properties of the intended target, and when that happens in conjunction with a thermal-based charm, the elements of –"

"Okay, okay!" interrupted Adin, who did not seem to have understood a thing Severus had said. She glanced hesitantly at Lily, who shrugged. Adin sighed and looked back at Severus, who was pale and twitchier than usual, and agreed as if against her better judgment. "All right, then, go on and change it back."

Severus gave his wand a funny little wiggle, murmured a spell Lily had never heard before, and Adin's hair immediately returned to its natural, shiny dark brown.

"Hey, thanks!" Adin said, admiring her reflection again in the window.

Severus ignored her and spoke directly to Lily. "Can we talk?"

"All right," she said, curious as to what this could be about. She said goodbye to her friends and followed Severus back into the castle, into the first-floor corridor, where he stopped next to a suit of armor and turned to look at her, nervous excitement flowing out of him.

"I've invented magic!" he said without preamble.

She stared at him blankly, not entirely understanding his meaning. "What?"

"I've invented magic…a new spell! I did it myself!"

She had not seen him this excited since right before they got to Hogwarts. His eager face shone as it had years ago, when he had first told her about the castle, basking in the park sunshine and in their own unfettered energy.

"Wait… _what?_ You invented a _spell?_ Why? How?"

The suit of armor next to them squeaked and creaked as it turned its neck to look down at them. Severus ignored it, a toothy smile splitting his face. "I was just experimenting, you know, like how we do in Potions, but this time in Charms. And I figured out how to adapt elements of a Sticking Charm – not a Permanent Sticking Charm, mind you, just a regular one – and a Silencing Charm…and then it took me a while to figure out the root incantation, and to adapt it a bit from the original Latin, you know…and then it was just the wand movements which I figured out with some trial and error…and the countercharm, of course, and I did it! I've invented a spell!"

He said this all very fast and it took a few minutes for her mind to catch up to his words. "Wow…wow Sev, that's really impressive. Can you show me?"

He looked around. The corridor was empty, as everyone was still in the courtyard for break. Turning back to her, he bit his lip, hesitating. "Well I can do it on you if you want. It won't hurt or anything…and I've been practicing loads on myself, the countercharm is really simple."

"Okay," she said, somewhat nervous.

He pointed his wand at her and said " _Langlock!"_ Immediately, her tongue snapped to the roof of her mouth as if by a powerful magnet. She couldn't say a word. He grinned and muttered the countercharm.

"See?" he said. "I did that!"

Lily opened her mouth and moved her tongue around in exaggerated motions, having not liked the feeling of it glued to the roof of her mouth. Once she was satisfied that it was still working properly, she grinned at him. "It's brilliant, Sev, really."

"Thanks!" he said, beaming.

There was an awkward silence as she surveyed him and the smile faded from his face, his eyes shifting up to gaze at a spot above her head. When he spoke again, his tone had changed from excited to nervous.

"Would you maybe want to meet me in the library after dinner? To work on the essay for Slughorn?"

She raised her eyebrows at him, suddenly irritated. "You've seemed to be doing fine without me for the last month."

He had the good sense to look slightly abashed at her comment, but he still was not meeting her eye.

"I've been busy," he muttered. "And you've been getting on fine yourself. I never even see you 'round without a group of five friends about…"

Folding her arms across her chest, Lily leaned away from him. "We've been over this before. I'm not going to apologize for having other friends." When he stepped back and mimicked her arm-fold, she sighed. His stubbornness was too much for her, and the fact of the matter was, she _had_ missed him. "I'll meet you in the library tonight if you're offering."

He smiled and finally looked back at her. "Great! You know I was thinking about that Hair-Raising potion…if we add the…"

She held up a hand to silence him and continued. "I'll meet you in the library tonight, but only if you promise to not bring up James Potter, Severus. I don't want to listen to you moaning about him anymore."

His mouth opened in shock for a moment before he bristled at the suggestion. "You're giving me rules now about what I can talk about?"

Students had begun trickling back into the corridor from the courtyard, which could only mean that morning break was almost over and Lily would almost certainly be late for Herbology if she didn't start moving toward the greenhouses.

"Yes," she said simply. "Because you go on and on about Potter and Black, and when I tried to do something to help you, you got furious at me. So if you don't want me to try to help, you can't complain. That's the rule."

He pondered this for a moment, his eyes darting around at the students hurrying past them, before giving a curt nod. "Okay. After dinner tonight, then?"

She grinned at him and started walking backward toward the castle doors, getting jostled by a few talkative Hufflepuffs as she went. "Absolutely. See you then!"

* * *

It had been six weeks since James and Sirius had been caught on the Quidditch pitch by Dumbledore; six weeks since James had accosted Snape in the corridor; six weeks filled with long detentions and sneaking off to add ingredients to the potion at just the right time, or to stir it three dozen times clockwise with a silver ladle, or to turn down the flame to just right when red sparks started spitting from the bubbling surface. It had been six very long weeks and now, finally, the potion would be ready for them to drink.

The evening found the four Gryffindor boys sitting comfortably around the simmering cauldron in the forth-floor secret passageway that led to Hogsmeade. The location had worked out remarkably well thus far – there was a very roomy alcove a little ways down the passageway that fit all of them easily, and even though they had spent all of their free time there for six whole weeks, they hadn't noticed a single other student sniffing around, leading them to believe that they were, in fact, the only people in the school who knew about this particular passage.

"No, that's not right," Sirius said, peering over James's shoulder. "The tapestry that blocks the hidden staircase is on the other side of the corridor, across from the classroom, not next to it."

James frowned, turned the parchment he had been working on upside down and tilted his head to examine it before nodding and scratching out the staircase he had just added. In an effort to ensure that the next phase of their plan – stealing the book they needed from McGonagall's office – would go off without a hitch, they had been sketching out a rough map of a few key corridors that would figure prominently.

"How's that?" James said, holding up the parchment so that both he and Sirius could inspect it.

Sirius examined it thoroughly. "Looks about right to me," he said, before leaning back against one of the large, squishy pillows they had littered the floor of the alcove with. "Now we'll just need to brush up on the Imperturbable Charm, get the rest of the supplies from owl-order, and we should be golden."

The cauldron, which had been set up in the middle of the alcove, began hissing loudly, causing all four boys to look up at it with excitement. The spitting potion was a deep blue and reflected the light of the burning torches that flickered along the passageway wall. Remus, who had been sitting cross-legged in the corner and working diligently on his latest History of Magic essay, glanced over at the charmed _Animated Animagi_ book, which was lying open on the floor between him and Peter.

"Good," he said, his eyes scanning over the book. "It says it should hiss for about ten minutes and then become a lurid, neon yellow color and stop simmering altogether. After that, we extinguish the flame and it's finished."

James and Sirius grinned at each other, thrilled with their accomplishment, the first major step they had taken in their quest to become Animagi.

"And what if something's gone wrong?" said Peter, who was fiddling with his wand nervously. "What's going to happen to us?"

"It hasn't gone wrong!" James said, offended by the suggestion. "It's done exactly what the book says it's supposed to do."

"You can try it first, Peter," joked Sirius. "And if you start having convulsions or if you grow a great big horn out of your face or something, we'll come visit you in St. Mungo's every holiday, don't worry."

Peter's eyes flared wide. "Me? Why have I got to go first?"

"You don't." James rolled his eyes. "I'll go first. Read it again, Remus, just so we know what to expect."

Sirius sighed and leaned his head back against the stone wall in an exasperated sort of way, his leg bouncing up and down. "We've been over this five times. We take the potion and it gives us a vision or some rot like that…"

Ignoring Sirius, Remus set his essay aside and picked up the book. "The effects of the potion are consistent with every drinker, though the experience will vary depending on the drinker's eventual Animagus Form. The experience generally will last between two and five minutes after consumption, though there have been reports of it lasting up to twelve minutes. After ingesting the potion, the drinker will almost immediately enter into a trance-state, which will allow him to connect with his Form in its primal spirit, and – more importantly – will allow the Form to explore the intricacies of the drinker's most intimate nature."

Sirius sniggered. "Ooh, did you hear that, Pete? The intricacies of your most intimate nature. Hope you're wearing clean pants." Peter shot him an unappreciative hand gesture.

"That's all it says about the actual aftermath of taking the potion," Remus continued, as if there had been no interruption. "Then it goes on about next steps – connecting with your Form through controlling your mind and all that – and then it mentions the final spells that we assume will be in McGonagall's book." He finished and looked up at them all, biting his lip.

"Don't start again, Remus," James said, noticing the familiar guilty expression on his friend's face. "We're doing this. We've come this far, there's no turning back now."

"That's not true," countered Remus. "You can turn back now. We'll dump the potion and forget about this whole barmy idea…"

Sirius rocked his head back and forth against the wall and growled irritably. "No. We've been over this a million times, Moony. Will you give it a rest already? You think we're going to dump the potion down the bloody drain after weeks of sneaking up here ten times a day and at all hours of the night? We. Are. Doing. This. Stop trying to talk us out of it."

"And stop worrying so much," James said lightly. "You're starting to sound like Peter."

Peter's brow furrowed in indignation. "Hey!"

Remus sighed, resigned. "Fine. Then stop calling me Moony."

"No can do," Sirius said. "You're stuck with it now."

Remus scowled and turned back to his essay as they fell into an easy silence, awaiting the moment when the cauldron would cease its hissing. James reclined on his back and began tossing a ball of scrap parchment in the air, higher and higher until it hit the ceiling of the passageway with every throw. Peter inched closer to the cauldron, peering into its contents with a look of utmost trepidation on his face.

"You know what they say, Peter," said Sirius after a minute. "A watched cauldron never turns."

Peter frowned and slid backwards. "Really?"

"No one says that," said Remus, looking up from his essay.

Sirius grinned. "Sure they do."

"You're _supposed_ to watch your cauldron," said Remus. "It's vital to being a good potion maker."

One of James's tosses went askew and the parchment landed next to Sirius, who plucked it up and tossed it at Remus's head. "Isn't Potions your worst subject, Moony?"

Without missing a beat, Remus chucked the parchment back at him. "Well I can't be any worse than you if you think you're not even supposed to watch the cauldron."

James, who did not seem to be listening to their conversation at all, rolled onto his side, frowning in concentration. "Are Evans and Snape back to being friends again, then?"

The other three stared at him.

"What are you talking about?" asked Sirius.

"Evans and Snape," James repeated, as if the non sequitur were completely natural. "They went off together during break this morning. I thought they weren't speaking anymore?"

Peter shifted, once again glancing at the hissing potion before asking, "Why do you care?"

"I don't," James shrugged nonchalantly. "It's only Evans gave me a right bollocking over Snape and then it seemed like they were on the outs and if she's friends with him again, well then she shouldn't still be cross with me."

None of the others found this line of reasoning to be particularly logical, but before any of them could respond, the loud hissing that had been emanating from the cauldron ceased abruptly. They all turned to stare at it before James pulled himself up and inched closer to the brim, eyeing the surface of the liquid, now a neon yellow. James grinned and muttered a spell toward the flames below the cauldron, which extinguished at once.

"Perfect," he said, still gazing at the potion with admiration. "I think we've done it!"

The all clustered around the cauldron together, peering into the liquid, the surface of which was smooth and still. Compared to some of the concoctions they brewed in Potions class, the scent of the fumes issuing from the potion was fairly fragrant. It smelled like a bouquet of daisies mingled with something vaguely fruity. Nobody spoke for a minute, all contemplating the step they were about to take, until James broke out of the reverie and clapped his hands once.

"No point in waiting," he said, digging through his bag for a flask. They all watched as he dipped the flask carefully into the glowing potion and raised it up to inspect the yellow liquid through the glass. Sirius was looking excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet; Remus was clearly worried, breathing heavily and staring at the flask as though it were filled with poison; Peter's eyes were moving from the flask to James, his mouth slightly open in anticipation.

"Cheers!" James said, not even hesitating before raising the glass to his lips and draining it of its contents. The taste was not quite as pleasant as the smell – it was as if he had taken a bite out of his mother's hydrangea bush.

A curious sensation overtook his body. His legs felt leaden as though he had suddenly tripled in weight and they couldn't support him anymore. The last conscious thought he had was that he ought to sit down on one of the large, squishy pillows that littered the alcove…his friends' faces swam before him…they looked worried…but the darkness was taking him over…

He opened his eyes but then winced and shut them again. His surroundings has changed. Everything was much, much brighter here than it had been just moments before, and he pried his eyes open into a narrow squint, trying to adjust to the light. It took several attempts…squint, shut, squint, shut…before the brightness seemed to dim to a sustainable level and he was able to observe his surroundings. There was a loud rustling and James looked around quickly, but the rustling appeared to be only the wind, which was blowing through a jade canopy of leaves above his head. He seemed to be in a sparse forest of some kind; there were trees all around him with sunlight beaming down between the branches in blinding, golden rays, illuminating the green leaves and the spears of grass as though a million wand lights were pointing down on him from above. The wind was gentle, and James could not understand why such a light breeze would sound so thunderous in his ears.

He looked down. He could not see his body or his feet, but he saw that he was standing…or perhaps floating…it was difficult to say. The fallen leaves beneath him were speckled by tall shoots of grass. He craned his neck to try and see his feet, but his head felt much heavier than normal and the movement propelled him off balance, causing him to stumble forward a bit. He froze, heart beating very fast.

He had four feet. He had felt them all when he stumbled.

There was a second – a very brief second – of panic before the excitement of this discovery set in. It was not every day that one awoke in a dream-like state to two extra appendages, after all. But his excitement, too, was short-lived and petered out quickly. He did not know what to do. He looked around again, trying to think clearly, but his thoughts were jumbled and he felt distinctly disconnected from his body. Tentatively, he lifted his front left foot and then brought it down again, noting the way the dead leaves felt against it, brittle at first and then cushioning as he pressed them into the ground. He then proceeded to do the same with his other three feet, relaxing a bit more once he confirmed that he was, in fact, standing on the ground and not floating above it.

Another loud noise sounded in the distance and he started, falling sideways a bit before regaining his footing. A bird landed on the branch of a nearby tree, watching him curiously, and James realized that it had been the bird's sudden movement that had startled him so. His hearing seemed to have intensified a hundred-fold from its normal register. He stood listening for a moment to the rustling of the leaves, the insects chirping a cacophony around him, the birds calling their mates from tree to tree – standard noises that for some reason sounded to him like a din, bouncing against his ears with remarkable force.

He took a tentative step forward, wobbling slightly and then steadying himself before taking another step. He felt taller than normal and rather uncoordinated, walking on four legs, having to move them in conjunction with one another while trying to balance his very heavy head on his shoulders. After several steps, he began to get a feel for it and was able to walk more quickly through the trees, listening closely to the sounds of the forest, noting the way the leaves flattened into the dirt below his feet.

He froze. There were voices ahead; he could hear them clearly and his first instinct was to turn and run but he did not, for he suddenly recognized one of the voices, though he had not heard it in several years. Creeping forward, he peered between a cluster of gnarled trees and into a large clearing, where a massive forest pond glittered in the sunlight. He would have gasped had he been able, and the shock of what he was witnessing made him once again stumble sideways into a tree.

He was looking at himself – his human self – laughing and swimming in the forest pond with his grandfather, who had been dead for two years. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were there too, playing and splashing one another, their happy shouts of laughter echoing through the trees. On the opposite shore of the pond were his parents – his father stretched out on his back, watching the swimmers with an easy, peaceful smile his face, and his mother lying perpendicular to him, her head resting against his stomach, reading a book in the sunlight.

James stared at the scene before him, the sound of his own heartbeat thumping away in his ears. How was this possible? How could he be here, four feet on the forest ground, watching himself swimming not twenty yards away? How could his grandfather look so lively and carefree, when James himself had been to his funeral, had seen his casket lowered into the cold ground so long ago?

He took a cautious step forward, trying to get to them, to make himself seen, but found that he was unable to get any closer. An invisible barrier was preventing him from moving forward, holding him hostage alone in the trees. He shook his heavy head in frustration and a strange, snorting noise emitted from his nose. None of the humans he was watching seemed to hear him, but then again, the snort hadn't been particularly loud. The purposeful call that he sounded next was a nasally, whining sort of cry, and though the sound shocked him enough to stumble again, the others made no indication that they had heard anything at all.

He didn't know how long he spent standing there, watching the group from his spot in the trees – time seemed to not exist in this strange realm – but after what could have been a few seconds or several minutes, he felt a sense of calmness settle over him. There was no need for him to approach them, or to get their attention. He understood that he was not meant to interact with himself, but only to observe. It was very peaceful, standing there in the forest, and he drank in the sight of his grandfather, who had always been so young at heart, splashing and frolicking with him and his friends. James sat back on his haunches, thinking that he could sit there and watch them all day without getting tired of it, when the world shifted and he fell sideways. This was not the awkward four-legged stumbles of before, though. The bright sunlight was dimming…the sounds of the forest and the voices were fading in and out like a poorly tuned wireless…the leaves and grass underfoot were becoming colder, harder…

He opened his eyes. The ceiling of the secret passageway stared back at him. It took him a few disoriented blinks to understand the he was now lying on his back on the stone floor, panting as if he had just run a great distance. The anxious faces of his three friends swam into focus above him and he blinked more quickly, trying to reconcile this image of them with the one he had just witnessed in the pond.

"James!" someone was saying. "James, are you all right? Talk to us."

His glasses had slipped down his face at some point and he straightened them before sitting up, swaying slightly as he got his bearings yet again.

"I'm big," he said. "My Form. It's big…and…I have four feet."

"It worked? Did you see yourself?" Sirius asked, looking very excited.

James thought for a moment, trying to hold onto the details of the experience, but they were starting to slip from him, like a dream that had been interrupted at a crucial moment. "No," he said, willing himself to remember what he had seen. "I didn't see myself…I couldn't. I couldn't angle my head enough to see my body. I was in a forest and you all were there, and my parents and grandpa were there too. And I watched us as we swam."

"You watched yourself, too?"

He nodded. "My human self. I was an animal and I was watching my human self, like through a looking glass or something."

"But you don't know what kind of animal you were?"

"No…it didn't…it was like it didn't seem important to know what kind of animal I was. Like I said, I felt big…tall…and my head felt really heavy so that it was hard to balance. And I definitely had four feet."

"Hm. So we know you're not a baboon or a toad or something," said Sirius before adding impatiently, "Okay, okay, I want to go now!"

They all watched as he, too, dipped the flask into the cauldron and scooped out a glassful of the yellow potion. He sat himself down on one of the cushions, raised the glass to them in a salute, and downed it in one.

Everything was dark and something smelled like meat. Like goose meat, he thought, not knowing how he knew this but immediately recognizing that it was correct. It smelled like the goose that Kreacher would prepare at Christmas. And carrots that had been simmering in the goose fat. And potatoes….potatoes with butter. And maybe something sweet too…treacle tart, perhaps. It smelled delicious.

He opened his eyes. He was sitting in the Hogwarts entrance hall, in the corner underneath the giant hourglasses that tallied the house points. It was dark, but not the normal darkness he was familiar with from wandering the castle at night – it was as though there was a screen over his eyes that had dimmed all the light around him, muting the colors. He looked up at the Gryffindor hourglass that loomed above him, which usually gleamed crimson with glittering rubies; he could see a red tint to the jewels, but they did not have their normal scarlet luster and appeared to him as almost a dark brown. The Slytherin emeralds, by contrast, had a strange yellow sheen to them.

Tearing his eyes away from this bizarre vision of the hourglasses, he surveyed the entrance hall. It was empty. The delicious smells seemed to be emanating from the Great Hall, where he could hear people talking and moving about. He stood up to investigate and discovered with a thrill that he, too, had four feet. He looked down. If he angled his head just right, he could see his front feet – paws – he had paws! They were huge and dark, though his affected eyesight made it difficult to determine the exact color. He took a cautious step forward and then started – something had brushed against his back legs…he wheeled around in surprise and fell over onto the stone floor, his heart beating very fast, but there was nothing behind him. Puzzled, he scrambled up once more, took another step and he realized with a jolt, when he felt it again, that _he had a tail_.

He pulled himself in a circle to try and see it, but it was very difficult to do so and after a moment of looping around himself, he stopped, distracted once more by a waft of scents from the Great Hall. The doors to the hall were open and there was light pouring through them, along with those delectable smells. He moved toward it instinctively, his mouth beginning to water.

The Great Hall was only half full, but the feast that spread across the long tables was so hearty that the wood seemed to be groaning under the weight of it. The Gryffindor table was overflowing with people, all chatting happily and enjoying the food. Sirius approached them. He recognized most of the faces – all of the Gryffindors who he had come to know since starting at Hogwarts – including, at the very end of the table in their usual seats, James, Remus, Peter, and himself. He trotted toward them, noting how much faster he could walk on four legs. The four boys were laughing loudly at something and as he watched them, a bubble of warmth and happiness settled itself in his chest and he felt his tail start to wag automatically.

He looked around. The Head table was full of teachers, all talking and eating merrily. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were completely void of students, though they were still piled with plates upon plates of overflowing food. His eyes fell on the Slytherin table and he immediately backed away from it, a low, unbidden growl emerging from his throat.

Seated at the Slytherin table were generation after generation of Blacks, every family member he had ever known or seen a portrait of – his mother and father, glaring at him from either side of Regulus; his aunts and uncles and cousins sitting straight-backed and haughty; his grandparents and great-grandparents and even his great-great-grandfather, whom he recognized from a portrait that hung in a spare bedroom at Grimmauld Place. They all sat silently, not carousing like the other occupants of the Great Hall, not touching the magnificent feast set before them, but stoically staring straight at Sirius. He stared back for a few moments, that strange growl still rumbling from his chest. He didn't want them here…they shouldn't be here…he didn't want them ruining this for him. He turned away from them, feeling the swish of his tail against his hind legs, and ducked low to sit beneath the Gryffindor table, next to the slightly scuffed shoes he recognized as James's.

A sense of peace overcame him when he sat down, his head brushing the underside of the table. Laughter was all around him – his own laughter and James and Remus and Peter's too. The delicious smells that had originally enticed him into the hall had now become a comfort rather than a seduction, and he tried to distinguish them all separately from one another: roasted chicken, beef stew, garlic parsnips, butterbeer, turkey gravy. The scents and laughter and chatter converged to form a thick blanket, smothering any thoughts of the Slytherin table in the back of his mind.

He peered up between the legs at the Head table. Dumbledore seemed to be looking at him. The old man raised a goblet toward him like a toast, smiling warmly. As if given permission, Sirius looked again at the Slytherin table and, with a shock, noticed that his family had all disappeared, leaving the Slytherin table as empty as the others. Calmness rolled over him and he curled up on the ground, his tail wrapping around his body…the sounds and smells fading away from him as the darkness crept in…

Sirius opened his eyes and sat up, running a hand over his face, feeling exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

"Well?" said James eagerly. "What are you?"

"I…I don't know exactly," he said, scooting back on the stone floor to lean against the wall, trying to remember exactly what he had just experienced. "I had a tail!"

"Wow!" Peter breathed, as if he had never heard of something as remarkable as a tail before. "You couldn't see your body either then?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, it was like James said, I couldn't really angle my head to see much of my body, and it didn't really occur to me to try harder. But I definitely had a tail and I definitely had big paws. They were dark colored…and furry I think. And I felt huge."

"Were you in a forest too?" James asked, the light from the bright yellow potion reflecting oddly off the lenses of his glasses.

"No, I was here at Hogwarts. I was in the Great Hall. It was full of people…and I saw myself just like you did, James. We were at the Gryffindor table…there was a feast."

He did not mention that his family had been there too, feeling that he'd rather keep that part private.

"What do you think you are?" Remus asked. "Furry paws and a tail…maybe you're a dog!"

Sirius considered this. "Maybe. But I felt huge…much bigger than a dog. At one point I walked underneath the Gryffindor table and I had to crouch down a lot. Maybe I'm a panther! Or a bear!"

"Bears don't have tails," said James.

"Oh yeah…"

"Can I go now?" said Peter anxiously. They nodded and watched as he dipped the flask one more time into the smooth surface of the potion and drank it, lying back onto the pillows, waiting for what he knew was coming…

Peter opened his eyes but could not see a thing. His body felt strange and compact and somehow more controlled than usual. He tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness, but there was nothing to see, everything was black. He stepped forward and then froze, terrified. He could feel four legs and four feet and his stomach felt unusually close to the floor, which was hard and cold. Where was he? How was he supposed to know what to do when he couldn't see anything at all? Panic was setting in, his heart thumping against his ribs almost painfully. He tried to calm himself, but he inadvertently let out a loud squeak of terror that only seemed to frighten him even more. _Think_ , he told himself. _Think. What would James and Sirius do right now?_

He took a deep breath and stepped forward again into the darkness. Nothing seemed to happen. Slowly, he took a few more steps forward and eventually a small sliver of light appeared ahead of him, which he scurried toward. As he approached it, the light grew bigger and bigger and Peter realized it must be some sort of doorway, or else some sort of opening to wherever he was. When he neared it, he slowed his pace and peered into it cautiously.

He was looking up at his parents' kitchen. He appeared to be very close to the floor and realized with a jolt that the dark place where he had awoken had actually been underneath the stove. Blinking into the brightness, he stuck his nose into the fresh air and sniffed. It smelled like his mother's lamb stew…one of his favorites.

There was something on the floor in front of him, toward the middle of the room, underneath the kitchen table. Peter crept toward it. It appeared to be a morsel of some kind…a piece of bread or biscuit that had fallen from the table and had been left, forgotten on the floor. He wanted to get to it desperately, instinctively. He wanted to taste it, though he wasn't even sure if he would be able to in this strange state…

An enormous black leather boot stepped down in front of him and he squealed, scampering back into the shadows under the stove. Heart racing, he looked up at the owner of the foot and realized with another shock that it belonged to his father, who had entered the room and settled down at the kitchen table, where Peter already sat in human form. His father was wearing his navy blue work robes, the same robes Peter had seen him in every day growing up, emblazoned on the breast with "MM," though Peter could never remember if this stood for "Magical Maintenance" or "Ministry of Magic." This must have meant that his father had just returned home for the evening, and Peter felt the eerily familiar spike of joy at the idea of all three of them reunited at the end of a long day.

From his spot in the shadows, he watched hungrily as the scene unfolded in front of him – his mother appeared in his line of vision, ladling stew into their bowls and then taking a seat next to the human Peter, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. His father was smiling at him warmly and Peter appeared to be showing them something – sheets of parchment from what he could discern from the low angle he held. Both of his parents were beaming at him with pride. Despite the cold hardness of the floor underneath his belly, Peter felt a surge of warmth in response to the scene he was witnessing. He was home. His parents were there to care for him. He was safe.

And then the floor seemed to go lopsided and Peter stumbled and slid into the foot of the stove, scrunching up his eyes in terror…

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He opened his eyes once more and was back in the secret passageway, surrounded by the eager faces of Sirius, James, and Remus.

"Y…yes," he stammered, sitting up shakily. "That's it?"

"You weren't out for very long," said Remus. "Only a minute or two. What did you see?"

"I was small. Really small. And I had four legs too, I think, but I couldn't see them…I couldn't see anything on my body."

"How small?" asked Sirius, exchanging a look with James. "Like a cricket or something?"

Peter bristled at the suggestion. "No! Bigger than a cricket. I don't know exactly. I was in my parents' house…in their kitchen. And I was underneath the stove there and my dad almost stepped on me at one point. I'd say I was about the size of his foot maybe?"

James was the only one of them on his feet and he paced back and forth the width of the passageway, excitement flooding out of him.

"This is brilliant," he said, shaking his hands as though trying to dry them. "What do we know? We know that I'm big, and Sirius is big, and Peter is small. We know that we all have four feet, so none of us is an ape or a bird…"

"Or a fish…" said Sirius.

"Right, none of us is a fish…"

"Or a snake…"

"Thank Merlin."

"We know that Sirius has furry paws and a tail," said Remus.

"And that I have a big head or something," said James.

Sirius laughed. "Bigger than normal? I didn't know that was possible."

James stopped pacing to aim a kick at Sirius's leg.

"Do you want to try it, Remus?" Peter asked. "To see what you would be if you became an Animagus?"

"No," said Remus quietly. "No, I have no interest."

"C'mon, it was…trippy! It was fun!" said James.

Remus shook his head, resolute. "No. I get enough of turning into an animal once a month, I don't need to try it out now for fun."

"Oh all right," conceded James. "What do we do now, then?"

Remus had picked up the book again and was scanning it with a furrowed brow. "I don't think there's any reason we would need to keep the rest of the potion. It says it will expire after an hour and if you take it again you'll just have the same experience as before. I think it'd be best if we clean it up, get rid of the evidence just in case…"

Grumbling about the fact that it had taken them months of work to brew the potion in the first place, Sirius transferred the remaining potion into a sealed bottle to be disposed of once they returned to Gryffindor Tower. Remus picked up the cauldron and then looked around the alcove at the pillows that still covered the floor.

"Er, maybe we should leave those here. We're going to need somewhere private for you all to practice transforming, after all."

"Good thinking," said James, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and shaking the wrinkles out. "And we've made loads of progress…now we just have to do that thing where you control your mind or whatever, and then the spells that we'll get out of McGonagall's book, and we'll be all set!"

Sirius grinned, slung his bag over his shoulder, and went to stand next to James, waiting to be covered with the cloak. "With any luck, Moony," he said, ignoring Remus's irritated sigh at the nickname, "we'll be right there with you at the next full moon."


	20. 2-10 or 'A Tricky Bit of Magical Mayhem'

_A/N: Ugh, I'm not too satisfied with this chapter. I went back and forth many times on whether this and the next should be combined into one, but in the end, I think they work better apart. The next chapter will be the last of second year. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!_

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 **Chapter 20 - 2.10 or "A Tricky Bit of Magical Mayhem"**

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"Let's go over it again…Sirius will activate the diversion, Peter and Remus will be the lookouts, and I'll sneak into McGonagall's office to get the book and duplicate it."

It was lunchtime on a Friday several weeks later and the four boys were huddled at the end of the Gryffindor table, talking in low voices. The plot to steal McGonagall's book would take place that afternoon and all of them were rather nervous, knowing how many things could go wrong.

"Right," said Remus, who had been very pale and shaky ever since the previous full moon. Sirius was slightly worried that he might pass out from the stress of the plan. "The important part is timing, though. Sirius, remember that you can't cast the spells until James is in place. It's only going to work if James can slip into her office as she's leaving it, or else he won't be able to get through her locking charms."

"And after you cast your spells, it will be five minutes before they activate, remember, so it has to be timed perfectly," added James.

"I know, I know," said Sirius, growing impatient with the constant rehashing. "Five minutes, and then it will stay activated for ten minutes – more if anyone tries to vanish it – which is why I have to stay on the scene for a bit, at least, to keep James updated."

"And how long will the copying-thingy take, again?" asked Peter.

"The Duplication Spell? We don't know, do we? It depends on how many pages the book is," James said, pushing his empty plate away so he could rest his elbows on the table in front of him.

"Oh yeah…"

Despite the general anxiousness regarding the situation, James had an energetic calmness about the whole thing; he never seemed rattled, particularly compared to Peter and Remus. It was one of the things Sirius liked the most about James.

Sirius, though he could recognize a vague nervousness lingering somewhere in his gut, was digging happily into his pudding. "James'll have the cloak, though, so even if something goes wrong, the worst that could happen is he gets trapped in McGonagall's office."

James frowned. "Right, but if you get caught, Sirius…"

"They _might_ expel me, I know, which is why I won't get caught."

"You have the book, right, James? In your bag?" Remus asked. He had a plate full of roast beef in front of him, but had not touched it in his nervousness. The gravy over top of it had congealed and now was rather unappetizing.

James reached into his bag, which contained the Invisibility Cloak, his pocket mirror, and a thick, leather-bound journal that they had just recently purchased through owl-order. He pulled the journal out and showed it to Remus.

"You two worry too much," he said, grinning at Peter and Remus.

Sirius drained his glass of pumpkin juice. "Amen to that."

Remus glanced at his watch and then looked around the Great Hall. McGonagall – as she always did at lunchtime – had retreated to her office about fifteen minutes prior. A few other students had started to get up to move toward their next lessons. "We should get moving."

They all nodded and stood up, James grabbing the mirror out of his bag and shoving it into his pocket before slinging the bag over his shoulder. Once they had made their way into the entrance hall, Sirius turned right to head up the marble staircase, while the other three started toward a corridor off the hall, a back way that would take them to McGonagall's office.

"Good luck!" Sirius shouted from the top of the stairs, grinning at them, his voice echoing around the entrance hall.

Remus moaned. "What is he _doing_?"

"Being an idiot," said James, watching as Sirius disappeared from view. "If he gets caught, they'll expel him for sure."

"If _you_ get caught, they'll expel you for sure," said Remus.

"Impossible. I've got the cloak."

Sirius laughed lightly as he strolled down the second floor corridor. They all worried too much, honestly. Sure, he technically could get expelled for what he was about to do, but they had done plenty of things they could have been expelled for since coming to Hogwarts, and the vast majority of those plans had worked out flawlessly. He smiled and waved at Ev Linney and a group of other Hufflepuff second years and ducked up a staircase that would lead him to the fourth floor.

The fourth floor was mostly deserted, thankfully. Sirius glanced at his wristwatch; he had ten minutes until the bell would ring, which meant he had another minute before needing to activate the four small disks. He and James had sneaked up to the corridor during break that morning to hide the disks, which were barely visible in four corners of the hallway behind two suits of armor, one statue of a grumpy-looking warlock, and the tapestry leading to the hidden staircase, behind which Sirius would be hiding in a few minutes. It was not a particularly _secret_ staircase – the boys had deduced that it was one of the more widely-known hidden passages in the school – but it was rarely used due to the rickety nature of the steps and the fact that they tended to vanish at random intervals. Sirius was not remotely concerned with the idea of another student traversing it before the bell rang, and even less concerned with the idea of getting stuck in one of the steps; he and James had spent countless hours in the weeks prior learning the pattern behind the vanishing stairs, and he knew exactly which ones to skip and when.

A few older students appeared and made their way toward the Transfiguration classroom, so Sirius wandered to the far end of the corridor, not wanting to appear suspicious. He checked his watch again. It was time.

He glanced around, but the few students now mingling in the corridor were not paying him any attention. As surreptitiously as he could manage, he pointed his wand at the first disk, the one behind the statue, and whispered the incantation to activate it. The disk glowed blue for a moment, and then settled back to the steely grey it had been before. Heart pounding, he then activated the two that were hidden behind the suits of armor, and made his way casually toward the tapestry. Checking around one more time, he slipped easily behind the tapestry and onto the top step of the hidden staircase, and activated the fourth disk, which sat close to his feet.

Grinning, he hopped down to the fourth step and leaned against the stone wall before pulling his mirror out of his pocket.

"James Potter!" he whispered into it.

James's face appeared in his mirror, looking nervous and somewhat distorted, as James was clearly already covered in the Invisibility Cloak.

"Sirius! How'd you do?"

"Piece of cake," said Sirius. "All four will activate in –" he checked his watch once more, "– three minutes. You in position?"

James nodded and flipped the mirror around so that Sirius caught a glimpse of McGonagall's closed office door, only a few steps away. "Remus and Peter are stationed at either end of the corridor, and they know to stall her if she comes back down here for any reason."

There was a noise at the bottom of the staircase and Sirius started. "Bugger, someone's coming. I'll get them out of here quick-like, but let me know once you're in, yeah?"

He stashed the mirror back into his pocket without even waiting for a response, just as the person became visible, hurrying up the stairs. It was Gin Leigh. She stopped several steps below him when she saw him standing toward the top of the stairs.

"Hello," she said, glancing around him curiously.

His nerves, already on edge, fluttered in his stomach. "Hullo."

"Why are you just standing there?"

"Hm?" he said distractedly. "Oh. Just waiting for James. He got held up in the entrance hall."

This made no sense, of course, and she knew it. She frowned at him in confusion.

"Why are you waiting on the staircase, then?"

He shrugged. "Seems as good a place as any."

"Okay," she said impassively.

He counted the stairs between them and then said, "Jump the next one up. It'll vanish if you step on it before dinner."

"Oh. Thanks." She hopped the indicated step and then paused once more as if she were waiting for something. Finally, she tilted her head at him. "Well do you mind getting out of the way? I'd rather not be late for History of Magic."

He shuffled over to the side as she approached him, but as the passageway was rather narrow, there wasn't a lot of room. When she made it to the top of the stairs to squeeze past him, he instinctively grabbed her wrist. She froze.

"What are you doing?"

"Er, you might not want to go that way," he said, his brain moving a bit more sluggishly than usual.

She looked at him funny. "Into the corridor? I'd have to go all the way 'round to the moving staircase, then. It'd take me twice as long."

They were very close together, and for a moment he forgot all about the plan and the disks and McGonagall and James. He had not been alone with Gin since that night in the library months ago and he wondered what she would do if he kissed her again. Then, shaking himself mentally, he remembered why he was there and that his friends were counting on him.

"Okay, then," he said, shrugging and letting go of her wrist. "You'd better hurry."

She gave him a slightly concerned, very suspicious look, and then hurried through the tapestry. He snuck a peek after her through a gap in the tapestry – students were filing into the Transfiguration classroom, some chatting loudly, others desperately trying to finish their homework. Sirius checked his watch again, just as Gin disappeared from his sight. He pulled his face back, not wanting to be seen. It wouldn't be long now…

Sure enough, he had just started to wonder whether the Zonko's disks were faulty or not when there was a loud series of pops and then a low gurgling noise, followed by a strong _whoosh_. Several of the girls in the corridor screamed loudly, and Sirius fought not to whoop with delight at how predictable girls could be. They needed those screams to draw a hurried McGonagall away from her office. He chanced the narrowest of glances into the hallway, which was now filling up with water, the invisible lines between the four hidden disks acting as imperturbable barriers against a movable swimming pool. The water was close to a foot high when Sirius felt a soft buzzing in his pocket and pulled his mirror out to see James's grinning face.

"I'm in," James said in a loud, frenzied whisper. "Daft girls…sounded like someone was being tortured up there. McGonagall bolted straight away. Has she got there yet?"

Once again, Sirius peeked through the narrowest gap in the tapestry and could now see McGonagall hurrying toward the scene, her wand at the ready. As he watched, the professor splashed right into the pool, soddening her formerly crisp robes up to the knee, and tried to comfort some of the wet students.

"Go on into the classroom, then, Jorkins, and you too, Laslow – it's just a Zonko's product, I'm sure…just some water, nothing to worry about…"

The water level stopped rising around waist-high and Sirius distinctly saw McGonagall, who had waded over to the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom, wave her wand to try and vanish it.

"She's here!" Sirius said into the mirror again. James grinned broadly and pulled the cloak from his head, causing his hair to stand in every direction imaginable. "She tried to vanish it! It's locked for more than ten minutes now, for sure. Do you have the book?"

James nodded and held it up for him to see. "It's 150 pages. Should take about five minutes to duplicate. Now get out of there before someone sees you. I'll throw the cloak back on just in case she comes back for some reason."

"She won't," said Sirius confidently. "I'll meet you in History of Magic when you're done. Thank Merlin for Binns not having any idea who's supposed to be in his class…"

Sirius sneaked into the History of Magic classroom only a minute or two after the bell had rung and, thankfully, Professor Binns was so engrossed in reading his notes that he did not notice him. Smirking slightly, Sirius sat down in his usual seat in the back and looked around. As this classroom was several floors away from the Transfiguration corridor, nobody had noticed anything amiss. His eyes fell on Gin, who had been staring at him. When he caught her staring, he shot her a grin, and she shook her head slightly and turned away. Word would spread about the moveable swimming pool – he'd be surprised if everyone in the school didn't know about it within the hour – and Gin would know immediately that he had been involved. He thought back to the previous year, when she had made him show her the kitchens in exchange for her silence about the prank they had played on Snape, and wondered what she was going to make him do for her this time. Strangely, the thought excited him.

The door to the classroom opened again several minutes later and James, Peter, and Remus all walked in, looking guiltily at Binns, who could not fail to notice the three of them walking into his classroom ten minutes late.

"You're late, boys," he said in his dry, wheezy voice.

"Sorry, Professor," James said, making his way to the back row and sitting down next to Sirius, as Peter and Remus also took their seats. "We got caught up in the library, missed the bell."

Several of their classmates glanced back at them, clearly disbelieving of the lie, some smirking, some rolling their eyes.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, then," said Binns, turning back to his notes and continuing in his monotone voice as if there had been no interruption.

Sirius looked at James eagerly and James gave him an excited thumbs up. He had done it.

* * *

When Lily entered the library after supper that evening, she found it nearly deserted. A few ambitious Ravenclaws were huddled together near the Charms shelves, and some scattered N.E.W.T students worked silently nearer the Restricted Section, but it was a Friday night before a Quidditch match, and only those diligently devoted to their studies could be found hunched over dusty tomes. Unfortunately for Lily, her best friend fell distinctly into this category. And even more unfortunately, on this particular night, Lily did not.

"Took you a while," said Severus as Lily approached his table. Despite the large assortment of parchment and books that littered the table in front of him, he had left the area on his right completely clear for Lily, though he hadn't even looked up from his notes at her. "Have an extra helping or two, did you?"

In actuality, she had dawdled at the Gryffindor table, knowing that this would be an unpleasant task and delaying it for as long as she reasonably could. Since their reconciliation a few weeks prior, she and Severus had met in the library every evening after supper to work on their ever-expanding pile of homework. There was a tacit agreement to their nightly ritual, and now Lily was going to shirk it.

"I can't stay," she told him. Now, his eyes snapped up and found her.

"What do you mean?"

She shifted, trying to reason with her own guilt. It was not as if she were committing some terrible betrayal. Nevertheless, she sighed and sat down in the empty chair next to him.

"It's Mary's birthday. We were going to do something fun for her."

His back, which had been curled toward the table as he read, now stood rigid. His face had gone stony. "Mary?" he repeated.

"Mary Macdonald," Lily said. At his blank stare, she rolled her eyes. "You know Mary, Sev. She's in my dormitory." When he still did not respond, she added, "I'll still meet you tomorrow, though. During the Quidditch match, when we'll have the library to ourselves? We can look into the properties of Murtlap essence like we had talked about?"

For a few long moments, he just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, at length, he said, "That will be fine," and turned back to his notes, and Lily fought back a small smile at his eventual submission. Apparently the prospect of Murtlap essence was appealing enough for him. He slid his open Charms text closer toward his notes before saying, "It's for the best. Charms started late and I've got catch-up reading to do. We both know you're no help in Charms, anyway."

She snorted and slapped his arm lightly. "I'm better than you at Charms, what are you on about?"

His expression didn't change, nor did his gaze move from the text before him. "Are not."

"Are too. Who got top marks on the essay on Chattering Charms, eh?"

"You're naturally chatty. I'd imagine if there was an essay on a Ginger-Haired Charm, you'd earn top marks on that one, too."

He had said it in the same bored voice, but she grinned at him nonetheless, relieved at the idea that he was being playful with her. He wasn't too cross, at least.

"Why did Charms start late?" she asked.

He flipped through the book in front of him, clearly looking for a specific passage as he told her, "Some simple-minded numbskull turned the Transfiguration corridor into a swimming pool this afternoon, hadn't you heard? They had it blocked off, so we all had to go back down to the entrance hall and back around. The lesson started twenty minutes late."

Of course she had heard. The prank had been the most-discussed topic of the day among the gossipy Hogwarts population. The general consensus among the students was that the swimming pool had undoubtedly been the work of James Potter and Sirius Black, but last she had heard, no one had been apprehended for the trouble-making. Lack of evidence, she supposed. Still, any hint of a mention of Potter or Black these days between her and Severus was dangerous territory.

"Oh," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "That's…that's too bad."

But Severus seemed to know what she was thinking. He looked up at her once again and narrowed his eyes. "It couldn't have been them," he said pointedly.

Lily decided to play dumb. "Hmm?"

"As elementary of an idea as it was – any dunderhead can purchase a movable swimming pool from Zonko's – the magic was tampered with and was far too advanced for cretins like Potter and Black. Lestrange overheard McGonagall saying that there had been a responsive locking spell cast upon it, making it impossible to vanish, and –"

"Okay," interrupted Lily, shushing him with her hands. From her desk in the corner, Madam Pince was craning her neck their way, clearly annoyed by the way Severus's voice was carrying. Besides, Lily had no interest in discussing Potter or Black tonight, especially with Severus, especially when his volatility where that topic was concerned was what had led to their most recent rift. "I agree. No way it could have been them…they simply aren't clever enough. You're right."

Satisfied, he turned back to his notes and muttered, "Of course I'm right."

"Maybe the next charm you should invent should be one that can hoist people up by the scruff of their necks so they can be lifted over such immature hallway obstructions," she said, grinning.

Something like a flicker of interest, or perhaps pride, crossed his features. "And yet you think you're better at Charms than I am."

She rose from her chair now, glad to be leaving him in decent spirits. The whole exchange had gone better than she had expected. "Perhaps I'll concede that one to you, Sev, just this once." She let her hand drop against his shoulder for a brief second before backing away and saying in a voice just soft enough to not carry to Madam Pince's desk, "I'll meet you here tomorrow, after breakfast, all right?"

His only response was the jerk of his head, and he did not look up again from his parchment until she had exited the library.

* * *

That evening was a lively one in the Gryffindor common room. While Friday nights in general were always more bustling than weeknights, Friday nights before Quidditch matches were downright raucous. Add that to the fact that somebody had turned one of the main school corridors into a giant swimming pool for about a half-hour that afternoon, and the noise-level was bordering on exuberant.

Sirius, though, was less than entertained. He sat at a corner table playing a lazy game of Exploding Snap with Peter, while next to them, Remus pored over the new leather journal. The formerly blank journal now contained a duplication of all the contents of McGonagall's book and was charmed to look like a beat-up copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ to anyone who had not given it the password. Not remotely interested in the card game and losing patience every time it took Peter several minutes to play a card, Sirius leaned his chair back on two legs and surveyed the common room.

James had gone over to sit by the fire with a few other members of the Quidditch team, and was now in the midst of a lively discussion with Fiona Beal, his Captain. In the opposite corner, several sixth years sat in a close group, passing around a half-full bottle of an unidentified dark liquid, their clishmaclaver growing louder and louder as the evening wore on. At a table nearby, Lily was laughing at something that had been written on a scrap piece of parchment along with Adin and Kaia, Adin's younger sister. Sirius looked around for Gin, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Your turn, Sirius," said Peter. Sirius let his chair fall back to the ground with a thump and then quickly tapped one of the cards with his wand. It exploded and engulfed Peter in a cloud of smoke.

"Ha! One more point and I win," he said, laughing at Peter's exaggerated coughing. He turned to Remus, who was not paying them any attention, and grabbed the journal out from under his nose.

"Hey!" Remus said angrily, reaching for the book, but Sirius shifted and kept it at arm's length from him. "Give it back. I'm trying to understand how all of this is going to work!"

"Give it a rest, Moony. We've only had the thing for a few hours and you've not taken your nose out of it since we got it. There'll be plenty of time for working out the spells. Tonight, we should celebrate our accomplishments."

Remus rolled his eyes and gave up trying to snatch the book back from Sirius. "Yeah? We haven't exactly accomplished anything yet."

"Haven't accomplished anything? Are you mad? We thoroughly disrupted the entire school this afternoon with a tricky bit of magical mayhem, managed to break into McGonagall's office to steal a book that will tell us how to become illegal Animagi –"

"Will you keep your voice down?" implored Remus, looking around them anxiously.

" – and we did all of this without getting assigned a single detention. I'd say that warrants a night without your nose in a book. Plus, I'm bored and James is busy being all Quidditch-y."

"Why are you bored? We're not done with our game!" protested Peter.

Sirius sighed, dropped the book onto the table, and tapped another card, which also exploded.

"Oi!" yelled Remus, diving onto the table to grab the book before it went up in flames. "Sirius, you idiot, you almost just lit the book on fire!"

"Whoops," said Sirius, amusedly watching Peter try to stamp out his smoldering robes. "Well that would have livened things up, wouldn't it have?"

"After everything we went through to get this thing? You're a bloody dumbarse, Sirius," snapped Remus.

Sirius's eyebrows shot up, a shadow of laughter crossing his features. "Language, Moony. You have impressionable innocent ears listening, after all."

Remus snorted and went back to reading the book, a flush creeping up his neck from below his collar. "I don't think there's anything innocent about you."

"I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about Peter here. He's only twelve, you know. Poor boy's never been exposed to anything remotely indecent. You don't want to corrupt him before his thirteenth birthday, do you?"

"Well then he should stop hanging 'round you, shouldn't he?" said Remus from behind the book, the corners of his lips twitching.

"I'll be thirteen in six weeks and three days!" said Peter. "And I'm not innocent, I know lots of swear words…" Curls of smoke were still issuing from his robes, but no one was paying him any attention.

Sirius was distracted when Didina Murphy walked by, holding hands with a fourth year by the name of Barrett Merriweather. He watched them take a seat in one of the squishy armchairs by the fire that Newlyn Gallit had just vacated, Didina curling up against Merriweather and twirling his hair between her fingers.

"Do you think we'll win tomorrow?" asked Peter after a few moments of silence.

Sirius was barely listening, still watching Didina. "Hm?"

"The match! Do you think we'll beat the Snakes?"

"James certainly thinks so," said Remus. "Says we're a cinch to beat Slytherin."

"Well James would also say we're a cinch to beat Puddlemere United, wouldn't he?" said Sirius.

Remus smirked. "Confidence has never been his problem. Maybe that's why you two get along so well."

"Because I bring him down to earth?"

"Because yours is the only ego that can rival his."

Remus, Sirius thought, was at his best when he was joking easily with him and James. Sirius chuckled at the barb, and certainly took no offense. "You're on form tonight, Moony."

"Glad I can entertain you," he said dryly.

"You'd entertain me more if you'd put down that book," Sirius shot back.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung open and Gin, Mary, and Raeanne climbed in, each carrying a lumpy bag. Without missing a beat, Sirius jumped up and walked over to intersect them right as they reached the table where Lily sat with Adin and Kaia.

"Hi," he said, smiling at them.

"Hi Sirius!" said Adin as she, Lily, and Kaia rose from their seats to join the other girls, all looking at him expectantly.

"Did you need something, Black?" asked Lily.

Sirius frowned at her tone. "Geez, Evans, can't a guy just stop by to say hello?"

She softened just a little. "Sure, but with you, there's usually an ulterior motive."

He eyed the bulky bags that Gin, Raeanne, and Mary had just brought in. "What are you girls up to?"

"We're having a party," said Adin. "It's Mary's birthday."

"Excellent!" Sirius said. "Now we're talking…this place needed some livening up…"

"Sorry Sirius," Raeanne said, walking past him toward the dormitory staircase, the others following behind her. "No blokes allowed."

"What?" he said, crestfallen, hurrying behind them as they neared the stairs. "What fun is that?"

"Oh it's plenty of fun for us," said Raeanne, giving him a cheeky grin.

He scowled. "Fine. Hey Gin…can I have a word?"

Gin froze at the bottom of the staircase, the other girls looking at the two of them curiously. She gazed at him for a moment, her expression inscrutable, and then handed her bag off to Lily. "Here, take these up, I'll be there in a sec."

Once the others had disappeared up the staircase, he pulled Gin aside and leaned casually against the wall. She looked at him expectantly.

"What was in the bags?" he asked.

"Drinks and sweets from the kitchens. Why?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering."

She crossed her arms and looked around impatiently. "Is that all?"

"No," he said, distracted for a moment by the sight of Didina Murphy kissing Barrett Merriweather rather vigorously in the squishy armchair. He turned back to Gin. "Why were you on that staircase today?"

"What?"

"The hidden staircase? It's not a common way to get from the Great Hall to the History of Magic classroom. Seems like…odd timing."

She didn't answer him immediately, but instead seemed to be searching his face for something before she said, "I had stopped in to talk to Professor McGonagall about our Transfiguration assignment. I'm…having some trouble."

For a moment, he was taken aback by the way she could be both so transparent and so guarded at the same time. Then, he grinned at her. "So what will it be this time?"

"What will what be?"

"Your terms. If I remember correctly, last year, when we turned Snape pink and trapped him in a bubble, you held that over my head for about a month and threatened to tell McGonagall unless I showed you the kitchens…"

She looked at him blankly. "You remember correctly."

"So what's it going to be this time? Don't play dumb, I know you've put two and two together…"

"I'm not playing dumb," she said, frowning slightly and gazing at him. "I know you're the one behind the movable pool – though I'm sure James played a part as well – I just don't care."

"Really? You're not going to hold this over my head like you did last year?"

"No."

"Well why not?"

"Last year I wanted something from you that I knew you wouldn't give me otherwise. I don't need anything from you now and if I do, I'll just ask," she said with a shrug.

He didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed by this. Across the common room, James had rejoined Remus and Peter at their table and Sirius noticed them watching him, smirking. He turned back to Gin, who was still looking at him as though waiting for more. "Is that all, then?" she asked.

"What are you girls doing up there anyway?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," she said, her standard impassivity betrayed by a ghost of a smile.

"I'm thinking gossip and giggles," he said, before adding hopefully, "Maybe a pillow fight?"

Her laugh made him swell with pride. "Something like that," she said. "I'm only there for the food."

"Right. I never took you as a gossip. Or a giggler."

"Yes, well, if I don't get up there soon, all the caramel bars will be taken, so I'll see you later, Sirius," she said, before hurrying up the stairs. He watched her disappear and then made his way back to the table in the corner, where his friends were all watching him curiously.

"What was all that about?" James said.

Sirius shrugged. "Are you done with the Quidditch talk for the night, then?"

"Probably," James said. "Fiona went wandering off with Gallit a little while ago."

Grinning, Sirius shook his hair out of his eyes and glanced around to make sure no one was too close. "Good, because we're going to sneak up to the girls' dormitory."

"Why?" said James, brow furrowed.

"They're having a party…Mary's birthday or some rubbish like that. They took a bunch of drinks and food up, and I want to know what they're talking about."

James didn't seem overly interested, but nodded all the same. "Okay, I'm in. As long as we don't get stuck up there too long, Sirius, I've got to get my rest before the match tomorrow."

"How are you going to get up there?" Peter asked, eyes wide.

"The Invisibility Cloak," said both James and Sirius at the same time, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Won't work," said Remus, who had not even looked up from his book once during the conversation.

Sirius frowned at him. "What do you mean it won't work?"

"Boys can't go up the girls' staircase, didn't you know?"

"What?" James yelped. "Why not?"

Remus sighed and finally looked up at the two of them from over his book. "The founders made it like that. Apparently they thought that boys aren't as trustworthy as girls." He paused and gave them a pointed look, but when both James and Sirius only stared back at him with mingled expressions of disgruntlement and confusion, he added sarcastically, "I wonder why?"

"So what happens if we go up there under the Invisibility Cloak?" asked Sirius, extremely disappointed by this bit of unexpected news.

"The stairs will turn into a slide and you won't be able to get up them."

"Well there's got to be a way around that."

"Why do you want to go up there anyway?" Peter asked.

"Why not? I want to know what those girls are talking about up there."

James laughed at the innocent expression on Sirius's face. "You want to know if Gin is talking about you."

Sirius flicked a piece of dirt from the front of his robes nonchalantly. "Gin…Adin…Muller…Evans…really any of them could be up there swooning over me right this very minute. I think I deserve to know if that's the case."

"I take back what I said earlier," said Remus, returning his eyes to the book still in his hands. "You definitely pass James on the ego factor."

"Hey!" protested James indignantly.

"So how are we going to get up there?" asked Sirius, growing impatient.

James bit his lip and pondered this for a moment, before shrugging. "Seems you're out of luck, mate."

This was not what Sirius wanted to hear. He huffed and narrowed his eyes at the girls' staircase, as if it had done something to offend him personally.

"We'll figure a way around it eventually," he said, resolute. "You mark my words."


	21. 2-11 or 'The Marauder History Books'

_A/N: Thank you to my reviewers! You guys are awesome. Now please enjoy the last chapter of year 2._

* * *

 **Chapter 21 - 2.11 or "The Marauder History Books"**

* * *

The Gryffindor Quidditch team steamrolled Slytherin in April, with James scoring three goals on the way to a final score of 210-40. The Lions would be playing Hufflepuff for the Cup during the second weekend in June, and James had suddenly become quite the hero in the Gryffindor common room as summer rolled towards them. Gryffindors of all ages – and even some students from other houses – had taken to stopping him in the corridors or at breakfast to compliment him on his performance, and James quite enjoyed the attention.

Thus, and despite Sirius's protestations, the final term of the year found the Marauders with very little time for discovering a way to sneak into the girls' dormitory. James's Quidditch practices had become even more intense and frequent than they had been before, and he often wouldn't return to the common room until well after curfew, dirty and sweating and exuberant at the excuse to spend so much time in the air. Along with the Quidditch practices, they had to contend with the uptick in homework as exams approached, and spent any spare time they could find in the fourth-floor secret passageway, trying to turn into animals at will.

The Animagi project was not going particularly well. The excitement of taking the potion and experiencing their Forms had worn off as James, Sirius, and Peter moved into the next phase of the process – attempting to control their minds to connect with their Forms. The books did not have very clear instructions on how this was supposed to be accomplished, and many evenings were spent in frustrated silence in the pillow-lined alcove, all three boys sitting with their eyes closed, wondering if this was not all a gigantic waste of time.

"This is ridiculous," said Sirius loudly from his perch on one of the squishy cushions one evening in mid-May. James and Peter opened their eyes and Remus looked up from his Transfiguration essay. "We've been at this for weeks and all I can _connect with_ is the idea that our time could be better spent learning all of those spells that we'll need."

James stood up, stretched, and began pacing, which had become a common occurrence. "The book says the spells come after this, though. It says to not cloud your connection worrying about the incantations."

"I know what it says," groaned Sirius. "But sitting here like this every night is driving me mad. I want to _do_ something."

"That's exactly what you're trying to avoid," explained Remus. He pulled _Animated Animagi_ into his lap and flipped to a dog-eared page before reading aloud, "Connecting with your Form is often considered the most trying aspect of the Animagus process and, indeed, becomes the downfall of many would-be Animagi. The focus must be singular and decisively simple, turning attention away from all distraction and thought to consume oneself with one's Form so entirely that one is removed from the present and instilled into the consciousness of the Form-state."

"Well that's all well and good and not at all vague," muttered Sirius, rolling his eyes.

These conversations became commonplace among the boys, with Remus trying to placate an impatient Sirius, a dissatisfied James, and a confused Peter, and he himself feeling guiltily disappointed at the idea that this whole Animagi thing might never actually come to fruition. Yet, despite the frustration, they persisted, sneaking off to the passageway whenever they had a spare hour in the evenings to sit and try again.

By the time June rolled around, though, they had to stop their practice all together, as preparing for exams was taking all of their spare time and James was so focused on the Quidditch Final that the idea of 'consuming himself with his Form' was laughable. Then, on the day before the match would take place, something happened to distract them all thoroughly.

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw second years were sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, murmuring idly while waiting for Professor Philpott to show up late, as always. Remus had his nose in his textbook, trying to use the extra time to squeeze in a few additional minutes of studying, as he would be missing two days of lessons the following week for the full moon. Peter was quickly scribbling down the homework he had forgotten to finish the night before. Sirius was talking happily with Emily Cagle, a small blonde Ravenclaw girl, while James doodled Quidditch plays on a bit of scrap parchment. All of the chatter ceased the moment the door burst open and Professor Philpott stalked in, glaring around at them all.

After the usual routine of Philpott insulting them and collecting their homework papers (Peter furiously scribbling down one final answer before sighing dejectedly and handing his in), Philpott began his lecture.

"Now," he began, reaching a finger into one of his overlarge ears and scratching it distractedly. "As you are well aware, your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam will take place exactly two weeks from today. The first half will be a written portion, wherein you will undoubtedly disappoint all of wizardkind with un-researched and flimsy half-answers that I will be forced to suffer through reading. The second half will be practical, and you will attempt to show me all of the defensive spells you have learned this year."

There was a great deal of muttering at this news and several of the Ravenclaws looked around at one another, panicked.

"Wait, what?" said a Ravenclaw called Lionel Marigold loudly. "But you haven't taught us any defensive spells this year!"

"Of course I have," said Philpott, narrowing his eyes at Lionel. "What do you think I've been trying to teach you all year? Why do you reckon I've had you copy down notes during every lesson, if you were not expected to be practicing the defensive spells in your spare time?"

"You never said anything to us about practicing spells!" said Lily angrily. "You never once mentioned that there would be a practical bit to our exam!"

Philpott leered nastily at her. "I expected you all to be able to _infer_ , Miss Evans…to use those tiny, shriveled up, discarded brains of yours and to read between the lines."

There were several hurried, angry whispers at this, with many of the students now looking at Philpott with horrified, mutinous expressions. Remus glanced at Sirius, who looked uninterested and haughty; no doubt, Sirius would be able to perform all of the spells easily already. James, on the other hand, had his eyes narrowed at the professor and utter dislike stretched across his features.

"You're supposed to be our _teacher_ ," James said loudly. "How are we supposed to know all of this unless you _teach_ us?"

Now looking impatient and more irritated than usual, Philpott did not remove his sneering gaze from James. "Fine. If you're all too dim-witted to figure this out on your own, let's have a practical lesson, shall we, Mr. Potter?" The students straightened, suddenly more interested, and Philpott paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. "Pettigrew!" he barked, not taking his eyes off of James for a long, taunting moment. Peter squeaked in surprise and almost fell out of his chair. "Up here, now! You will be our demonstrator."

Every eye in the class watched as Peter pulled himself from his chair and stumbled to the front of the classroom, looking as though he would like nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Remus watched in horrified fascination, wishing there was something he could do to help his friend, but his mind was blank.

"Now, Pettigrew," said Philpott, a cruel smile twisting his mouth, "disarm me."

"W-what?" said Peter, glancing toward the back of the room where his friends sat, as if hoping they would come to his rescue.

"Disarm me," repeated Philpott. "I will not block it. Even someone as dense as you should be able to handle such an elementary spell."

From his left, Remus heard Sirius growl in anger; on his right, James was breathing deeply, his back straight and his fist clinched tightly around his wand. There was little doubt in Remus's mind that Philpott had targeted Peter specifically so as to teach James a lesson for speaking out against him.

Apparently realizing that there was no way to get out of the situation, Peter pointed his wand at the professor, his hand shaking. _"Expelliarmus!"_

Nothing happened. The students watched in silence as Philpott laughed cruelly and Peter lowered his wand, dejected.

"Pathetic," said Philpott. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Pettigrew, and if you perform like that on your exam, you will fail this class. Now get out of my sight."

Peter hurried from the front of the classroom, appearing close to tears. Remus tried to give him a sympathetic look, but it went unnoticed as Peter shuffled past him and into his seat. A ringing silence echoed around the classroom as Philpott gave them all a cruel smile, as though vindicated.

"Let's hope the rest of you will take this lesson to heart and conduct yourselves less pitifully than your classmate during your –"

Philpott cut off when his wand flew out of his hand and landed with a clatter on the floor near the door. Next to Remus, James was pointing his wand at the front of the room from underneath his desk. Philpott looked startled and hurried over to pick up his fallen wand, but as soon as he reached down to grab it, the wand soared between his fingers and hung tauntingly over his head, just out of reach. Remus caught James's eye and shook his head at him – James would surely get expelled for this – but James just grinned, shrugged at a suddenly-entertained Sirius, and continued making the wand float in front of the class.

"What in the… Who is doing this?" roared Philpott. He glared around at the students, many of whom were trying to suppress broad grins, but from his vantage point at the front of the classroom, there was no way he would be able to see the wand underneath James's desk. "I order you to stop it at once!"

The wand was now bobbing along above Philpott's head in a comical manner and he started waving his arms in the air and jumping up and down to try to grab it, looking more and more buffoonish as the seconds wore on. The class was laughing loudly now, and Philpott looked murderous. He composed himself, straightened his robes, and grabbed Mary's wand from where it was lying innocently on top of her desk in the front row.

" _Accio_!" he said, pointing Mary's wand at his own, which zoomed into his hand at once. The laughter died down and James slid his wand into his robes, fixing his face into an innocent expression that Remus was more used to seeing on Sirius.

"Who was responsible for such…such insubordination?" Philpott bellowed, spittle flying out of his mouth and onto Mary's desk.

"Haven't you heard?" James answered calmly, and Remus wanted to physically reach over to cover his friend's mouth with his hand. "The castle's haunted, Professor."

He said it so innocently and casually that an ignorant person may not have even suspected James to be the guilty party. Luckily for all of them, their professor rather fit that description.

"Get out!" shouted Philpott at them all, looking utterly irate and thoroughly discomposed. "Get out of my classroom, all of you, now! I shall talk to the headmaster about this class at once!"

Nobody needed telling twice. There was a loud scraping as all of the chairs pushed back and the students hurried to the door, some muttering, some sniggering, and a few glancing over their shoulders fearfully. The Marauders didn't say a word to one another until they had made their way out of the entrance hall and onto the bright grounds, where they would now be able to spend a free hour. A gentle breeze rolled through an absolutely beautiful afternoon, and if the situation had been different, Remus may have been happy for the opportunity to enjoy the weather a bit more.

"He's a nightmare," said James, as they sat down in the shade of a beech tree by the lake. "What's he playing at, picking on Peter in front of everyone like that?"

Remus, torn between sympathy for Peter and annoyance at James, frowned and pulled his Transfiguration textbook out of his bag, ready to use the hour to catch up on his studying. "You really shouldn't have done that, James. You could have been expelled."

Sirius huffed and leaned back in the grass. "He's the worst combination of idiot and madman, that Philpott. He'd never have been able to suss out who was jinxing his wand. I'm glad you did it, James, or else I may have cursed him and that would have been a mite harder to hide."

"Do you think he'll really go to Dumbledore?" asked Peter. "Do you think we'll all get into trouble?"

James shrugged. "Who cares? We need to do something about this berk, Sirius. We've been slacking this term. He's had it too easy."

Remus fought not to groan at those words – with everything else they had going on, now they were going to start tormenting Philpott again as well?

But just as Remus knew he would do, Sirius grinned at James. "Excellent. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

The party that followed Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Final the next day was one for the ages. Hufflepuff, it turned out, was simply no match for this Gryffindor team. The Final had been quick and painless, as the score was close only for a few minutes before Gryffindor pulled away and Susanna O'Shea caught the Snitch to win the Cup only twenty minutes after the match had started. Exam preparations were forgotten entirely for the day. The celebration commenced early in the afternoon, when a group of upper-years arrived in the common room with bagfuls of treats and butterbeer, and carried on well into the evening, when a grinning Sirius offered to go replenish the refreshments. He winked when a disapproving Newlyn Gallit reminded him he only had a half-hour until curfew, and climbed through the portrait hole into the much quieter corridor.

"It's nearly curfew," the Fat Lady called after him, as she swung shut. "You'd best not be caught out-of-bounds."

Sirius did not look back at her, but waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "I'll be quicker than a quintaped, keep your hair on!"

And with that, he turned the corner and nearly ran bodily into Gin Leigh.

"Well," he said, once he had composed himself. He had not noticed her absence from the masses in the common room. "Why aren't you at the party?"

For a moment, she looked surprised to see him there, but that melted away into a quick shrug. "I had to send a letter before curfew."

She looked rather uninterested in conversing with him, so he mimicked her shrug and sidestepped her. "All right. I'm off to the kitchens for replenishments."

He had barely taken three steps past her when she was suddenly there again, walking along beside him. He frowned at her. "What are you doing?"

"I'll help you," she told him.

"I can find the kitchens on my own, you know."

"Butterbeer's heavy. You may need an extra pair of hands is all."

The idea that this was not an entirely altruistic endeavor of hers – that she might want to be around him, to be alone with him – crossed Sirius's mind, and he could not help but warm at the thought.

"We might not make curfew," he told her as they descended the moving staircase, which on a Saturday would take them all the way down to the second floor. "Depends on how sprightly the elves are feeling this evening."

"All right," she shrugged.

"You're not concerned about getting detention?" His tone was casual, but he couldn't help but think that another detention with her might not be the worst way to spend an evening.

She looked at him out of the side of her eye. "Well I guess I reckoned we wouldn't get caught."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're _supposed_ to be the mastermind mischief-maker, aren't you? I guess I reckoned you'd be able to lead us back from the kitchens a few minutes past curfew without landing us in detention."

He laughed and asked incredulously, "Do you know how many detentions I've had this year?"

Gin shook her head. "Why would I know something like that?"

"Neither do I," Sirius told her. "I lost count."

She did not seem too disturbed by this notion. "But remember, I know about some of the things you've got away with the last two years."

"And you're thoroughly impressed?"

"And I'm trusting that if you can turn an entire corridor into a swimming pool without earning a detention, you can get me back to Gryffindor Tower a few minutes after curfew without earning us both a detention."

There was a playfulness to her tone that made him grin. And then, as they turned the corner toward the entrance hall, without thinking at all, he said, "Our last detention wasn't so bad, though."

He wished immediately that he had not brought it up, for fear that she would recoil or revert to embarrassed silence at the memory of their detention in the library and the kiss they had shared that night in November. They had not mentioned it since, had barely spoken to one another outside of the Potions dungeon, had both feigned amnesia where the topic was concerned. Sure, he thought about it often enough, but how a young wizard was supposed to act toward a girl he had previously kissed, he did not know.

Gin, though, did not falter or react in any particularly noticeable fashion. "No," she said, seeming almost pensive. "It wasn't so bad."

He fought back a smile. They retreated into an easy silence for the remainder of their walk to the kitchens, but Sirius could not think of anything but the girl alongside him. When they stepped into the cavernous kitchen and were swarmed by eager house elves asking to help them, Sirius stumbled over his order, and Gin had to clarify that when he said "eclair," he meant a platter full of eclairs, and when he had asked for "a few bags of potatoes," he had intended to ask for potato _crisps_ , more specifically. The house elves were as helpful as ever, and as they all hurried off to gather the assorted requests, Sirius made the mistake of meeting Gin's gaze for the first time that evening.

And there was something, in that moment, by the expression on her face that told him she was thinking what he was thinking, and so, without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in toward her.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was bordering on chaotic, and the atmosphere of celebration and general glee was such that even Remus had abandoned his studies for the night, knowing that trying to get any reading done amid the din would have been fruitless. He sat in the corner with Peter, Raeanne, and Goomer for much of the evening, feeling the exhaustion that only an impending full moon would bring him, yet simultaneously feeling incredibly content.

He would not have thought it possible, a year or two ago, that only two days before a full moon he could feel this untroubled. The transformations were more terrible than ever, each month his injuries more grisly and harrowing than before, but every time he returned to the understanding faces of his three best friends, a consuming, almost giddy gratefulness overtook him and he would not think about the next full moon again for several weeks. How he had been lucky enough to befriend them, he would never know. Even with exams approaching, even with the frustrating stasis of the Animagus transformations and his overall disquiet regarding the whole endeavor, Remus was happier than he had ever been.

Looking around, he grinned at the fact that he was clearly not the only happy one at the moment. James had been surrounded by admirers since the match had ended, and he was currently sitting by the fire, talking animatedly to Susanna O'Shea, who seemed to find everything he said very funny. Sirius had excused himself to the kitchens, claiming that he would get everyone more rounds of drinks and snacks, though now that Remus thought about it, he had been gone quite some time. Goomer and Raeanne sat next to him, telling stories about their various childhood escapades to Peter, who giggled at them with something akin to amazement.

The portrait hole swung open and Sirius climbed in, followed, to Remus's surprise, by Gin. Both of them had bags of food taken from the kitchens, which they deposited on a large table and which were descended upon by hungry Gryffindors at once, Goomer and Raeanne included. Sirius looked around, spotted Remus and Peter, and pushed past the swarming students toward them, grinning in a proud sort of way.

"Hi!" he said, taking the seat that Goomer had just vacated and handing each of them a fresh butterbeer.

"Took you a while," said Peter. "You didn't get caught, did you?"

"Nope," Sirius said, cracking open his own bottle of butterbeer and taking a swig. He still had that funny smile on his face.

Remus narrowed his eyes. He knew that look. "What were you up to?"

"I went to the kitchens to nick some snacks, I told you that." He paused and then his grin twitched slightly. "Gin helped me."

Something in Sirius's voice – a mixture of feigned innocence and controlled excitement – confirmed Remus's suspicions, and he felt his neck growing hot under his collar. Peter, though, looked confused.

"Well why did it take you so long then? I thought you'd be back before curfew."

"Because he kissed her again," said Remus, torn between amusement and outright wonder at Sirius's forwardness.

Peter's eyes grew very wide and his mouth fell open. "You did?"

Sirius's grin broadened, but he just shrugged at Peter, his eyes dancing happily as he surveyed the common room before turning back to the pair of them. "She offered to help me get everything and carry it back up here. Who was I to say no?"

Remus glanced over at Gin, who was now sitting with Lily and a third-year girl Remus had never spoken to. Gin looked as she always did – pretty and unreadable. He wondered what it was like to kiss her, or to kiss any girl, really, and then as soon as the thought crossed his mind he looked away, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and very warm all of a sudden.

Peter, too, had evidently turned to look at her, as Sirius said, somewhat exasperatedly, "Stop staring, Peter. Geez, could you be any more obvious?"

"Who's Pete staring at now?"

James had returned, flopping down into the empty chair and smiling around at them all, still on an obvious high from the win that afternoon.

"He's been staring at Gin with his mouth hanging open," said Sirius as James grabbed a chocolate éclair from the table and took a large bite.

"Why?" he asked, mouth full.

"Because Sirius has been off in the kitchens kissing her again," explained Remus, trying not to laugh when James choked on the éclair.

"Did you really?" he asked after a moment of coughing, his eyes watering behind his glasses.

"Yeah," Sirius said, examining his fingernails in a bored sort of way, though his lips were still quirked in a grin. "We were nicking food from the kitchens and next thing I knew, we were kissing. It was fun."

Sirius was acting very nonchalant about the whole thing, in Remus's opinion. "So _now_ is she your girlfriend?"

"No!" Sirius snorted and then lowered his voice. "I'll have you know, when we were walking back up here, she told me, 'I hope you don't think this means I like you, Sirius, or that I want you to be my boyfriend or anything.' It was brilliant."

"So she just goes round kissing boys she doesn't like?" asked Peter with obvious confusion that – quite honestly – Remus shared at the moment.

Sirius shrugged again. "It's not like I want her to be my girlfriend, so why do I care?"

James and Peter continued to press Sirius for details, but it was not long after this that Remus excused himself for the night and retreated to his four-poster, exhausted. Of course, he had known that Sirius and Gin had kissed months ago, but hadn't given it much thought, as most of his mental energy at that time had been spent on his friends' discovery of his condition and their subsequent plan to become Animagi for him. Now though, he lay in bed and thought about this whole kissing business. He thought about Gin and how pretty and aloof she always was; about Lily and how so many boys seemed to be drawn to her but how she scared Remus a little; about Adin and her shiny, dark hair; about Mary and her quiet kindness; about Raeanne, and what Goomer would do if another boy kissed her. He laughed lightly at the thought and turned over, burying his still-warm face into his pillow.

Unwillingly, a bubble of worry pitted itself in his stomach. Once girls moved into the picture, would everything change? Would James and Sirius – already very popular – decide that their attention would be better spent on girls instead of on him and Peter?

 _Think of everything they've done for you_ , he told himself. They were constantly one nosy teacher or bad spell away from being expelled, or even arrested, for what they were doing in that fourth-floor passageway. The four of them had been through so much that year, more than Remus could ever have fathomed in September, and they had stuck by one another. They hadn't abandoned him when they discovered his secret, hadn't outed him or ruined his future, and now they were practicing illegal, highly dangerous magic every night just to try to help Remus. Heck, Sirius had told him and Peter first about what he had been up to in the kitchens, even before he had told James. Remus would not worry about girls. Not tonight.

And allowing himself to be content – just this once – Remus drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The following Wednesday evening found Remus trudging slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, having just been released from the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. Despite his exhaustion and shaky limbs, he couldn't help but notice that there was a bit of a buzz around the corridors; the students he passed seemed happily talkative considering it was right before exams. He had just taken a brief rest on an out-of-the-way bench and had started his slow ascent again when someone called out to him.

"Remus!"

He turned and found Lily and Adin, bags thrown over their shoulders, approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Hello," he greeted cautiously as they reached him. Though both very friendly, it was unlike either of them to approach him as he walked alone down the corridor.

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked. "Somebody said you were ill."

Remus nodded and leaned his shoulder as surreptitiously as he could against a nearby pillar, hoping his legs would keep him upright for the duration of the conversation. "Yes, I–I came down with something yesterday and Pomfrey insisted on keeping me in the hospital wing all day today."

"What was wrong with you?" asked Adin.

"Oh, er, I'm not sure." Remus fidgeted and looked down at his fingers, trying to instill some sort of confidence in his voice. "I'm all right now, though, nothing to worry about."

"That's good," said Lily, eyeing him with concern. "Being ill right before exams is pretty horrible. If you want, you can borrow my notes from lessons today. I doubt Potter or Black took any."

Remus smiled at her, grateful for her kindness and guilty for the lie. "Thank you."

"Did you hear about Philpott?" Adin asked, a sort of giddy energy flowing out of her, giving Remus the sense that this was the true impetus behind the conversation.

"No, what happened?"

The girls exchanged a look, both fighting back grins. "Well, he might be cracking up, I reckon. It's all anybody could talk about today. Apparently, he's spent most of the day ranting about how something's haunting him…about how last night, every time he reached for something, it would float up in the air and out of his reach."

Remus bit his lip to keep from smiling, as Lily was now watching him shrewdly.

"We didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts today," Lily said, "but it's all over school. People say he's at a breaking point."

"Hm," Remus said, trying to look curiously perplexed. "Isn't that odd?"

"Yes," Lily said, her lips twitching. "Very odd."

"Anyway, we're off to the library to work on Herbology, if you want to come," offered Adin.

"Oh, no thank you," said Remus, who was barely keeping upright and wanted desperately to get back to his four-poster. "I'm just going to go back up to Gryffindor Tower."

"Here," Lily said, swinging her bag open and digging through it. She pulled out several sheets of parchment covered in her loopy handwriting and handed them to Remus. "Notes from today for you to borrow. You can give them back once you're through."

Remus thanked her again and bid them goodbye before continuing his slow progress up to the portrait hole. He did not find any of his friends in the common room or in the dormitory waiting for him, but was only slightly disappointed by their absence. His four-poster had never felt as comfortable as it did when he crawled into it, trying to concentrate on reviewing Lily's notes with his back pressed against the headboard.

He had been at it for about thirty minutes, rereading the same lines multiple times with glazed-over eyes, when the dormitory door swung open and James, Sirius, and Peter entered, all smiling and hurrying toward Remus when they realized he had returned.

"You're back!" Peter said.

"How are you feeling?" James asked.

"All right," Remus answered honestly. "I'll survive."

"Well we've been in the passageway," Sirius said, dropping his bag onto the floor by his bed, where it clunked loudly. "Same old rubbish, though. Still not _connecting_ with anything…"

James frowned at him. "We'll get there. It's only going to take some time."

Sirius rolled his eyes and looked as if he was about to respond, but Peter cut in. "Did you hear about Philpott, Remus?"

Sirius's frustration seemed to vanish at once, as he and James started laughing loudly. Remus grinned in spite of himself. "I did. I thought you lot were going to study last night?"

James composed himself and shrugged, his eyes alight with mischief. "We were, but messing with Philpott was more fun."

"Plus we didn't have you here to make us feel guilty," said Sirius.

"Yes, Moony, we really are at a loss when you're away."

Remus chuckled and set Lily's notes on his bedside table, conceding defeat to his exhaustion. "Well tomorrow, we've certainly got to study. Exams start in only a few days!" He did not miss the glance that James and Sirius exchanged and suddenly, he was very suspicious. "What are you doing to him tomorrow?"

Sirius grinned innocently. "Don't you worry about it, Remus. We know you need your rest. Let's just say, don't be late for breakfast in the morning."

* * *

As he walked down to the Great Hall the next morning with Peter, however, Remus couldn't help but worry, and his trepidation had only increased when he had awoken that morning to find that James and Sirius had already left the dormitory. He and Peter entered the Great Hall, which was almost full though not as loud as usual, as many students had books propped open against their juices and were studying diligently. Spotting James and Sirius at the end of the table, Remus and Peter hurried over and squeezed themselves onto the bench.

"Why didn't you wait for us?" asked Peter, serving himself a large helping of eggs.

James grinned, his eyes flickering up to the staff table. "Had a few things to do."

This did not ease Remus's fears. He put some sausage on his plate, but barely poked at it as his stomach was in knots. "Don't you two think we have enough to be worrying about right now without adding a vendetta against Philpott to our schedules?"

Sirius, who had been surveying the hall while munching happily on some bacon, looked at Remus and frowned, clearly confused. "What all do we have to be worrying about right now?"

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that exams start in a few days?"

"James and I aren't worried about exams, Remus!" said Sirius as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "We already know it all."

"Plus, that's why we didn't ask you and Peter to be involved in this one. You two are so uptight…"

"Yes, so calm down and let yourself have a laugh today. You look like you could use one, mate."

Remus did not respond, but went back to poking at his sausage, feeling slightly resentful. He was very behind, having missed two days of lessons right before exams, was still feeling the exhaustive effects of the full moon, and now his friends were adding undue stress to his life. If Philpott discovered that they had been the ones tormenting him all year, Remus was quite certain the man would not hesitate to hex them.

Both James and Sirius continued with their breakfasts with an uncommon alertness that foretold trouble, but Remus did not have to wait long to discover what they had prepared. Only a few minutes after the post had arrived, there was a strangled cry from the staff table and nearly every person in the room looked up at the source of the noise. Professor Philpott had risen from his seat and was holding a handful of what looked like his own lank brown hair in his palm, gazing at it in horror. A moment passed and then he reached up with desperate hesitance to touch the top of his head, at which point the rest of his hair came off in his hand like a great, molting toupee. The students and other professors stared transfixed, mouths agape; Philpott's head now resembled a cue ball with his already oversized ears protruding from his bald head like bat wings.

The laughter started at first as a gentle tittering, as if the students were not sure whether they were allowed to laugh or not. Once a few had started, though, it became contagious and deafening. Philpott looked up at them from the pile of hair in his hands, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight, his thick glasses making him look more than ever like some sort of deformed insect.

"Who has done this?" he roared, dislodging his wand from his robes and brandishing it at the students, who were still laughing away. "Which one of you nasty miscreants did this to me?"

The professors seemed at a loss – indeed, a few of them appeared to be fighting back smiles, though many were surveying the laughing students with a frown. Professor McGonagall stood up and approached Philpott, whispering something into one of his quivering ears, but he was too intent on the students to even react to her. He brushed past McGonagall, made his way around the staff table, and again extended his wand hand, which was shaking in either rage or humiliation, it was difficult to tell.

"I'll make you pay!" he shouted. "I'll make you –" He cut off when one of his eyebrows proceeded to fall clean off, floating down in front of his face like a drifting, solitary feather. The laughter in the hall intensified and Philpott was now forced to shout in order to be heard over the din.

"I have spent a year of my life attempting to teach you lot of brainless, worthless ruffians, and this is how you repay me? You are a plague on wizardkind, all of you!"

He raised his wand straight ahead of him as though to curse them all, and many of the laughing students ducked down as if to shield themselves, but there was a flash of light and a loud bang and several girls shrieked in surprise. Dumbledore had arrived, framed in the doorway of the Great Hall, his wand out and pointed directly at Philpott, who cowered and lowered his own wand sheepishly.

"I cannot allow you to curse my students, Professor," said Dumbledore calmly. The laughter in the hall had died completely at the headmaster's appearance and was replaced only with a ringing silence. All eyes were locked either on Philpott or Dumbledore, waiting to see what would happen next.

Philpott's other eyebrow fell off and became stuck between his glasses and his face. He blinked quickly for a moment before digging it out and holding it in his hand, along with the rest of his hair, gazing at it in shock before seeming to come to a decision.

"I hate this blasted school, Dumbledore," Philpott said, throwing his shoulders back in what seemed to be an attempt to look imposing, but that only made him look more ridiculous. "I should have done this months ago. I QUIT."

And with that, Professor Philpott, bald head shining brightly, left the Great Hall, Dumbledore turning and following behind him. There was a beat of silence before everyone started talking at once, a few whoops and cheers echoing up from the house tables.

Remus let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and turned to his friends, who were laughing heartily.

"See Moony?" said Sirius, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "We told you everything would work out."

"And you doubted us!" James said in feigned outrage before giving up and chuckling again. "Running an evil, twisted, bullying, horrible teacher out of Hogwarts? This one will go down in the Marauder history books, lads."

* * *

The school could talk of little else for the days that followed Philpott's resignation, and before Remus could catch his breath, they had somehow made it through exams – including Defense Against the Dark Arts, which Dumbledore himself had presided over with an air of cheerful reminiscence at once again being back in the classroom – and were on the train back to King's Cross. The four boys were lounging in the very last compartment on the train, watching the wild scenery whip past them through the window, and discussing the lack of progress in their Animagi project.

"Well the bright side is that it's something we can practice over the summer, at least," said Peter. "Because we don't actually have to do any spells for it."

"Do you think your parents are going to take away your wand for the summer again, Peter?" asked James.

Peter shrugged. "Probably. They don't want me to get in trouble."

James shook his head as though he had never heard of such a concept. "Mental. You live in a wizarding house. How do they think the Ministry would know if you were the one doing magic or if it was them?"

"James," said Remus reasonably. "I'm pretty certain it's only your parents that don't care if you do magic outside of school."

"I bet that's not true. What about your parents, Sirius?"

Sirius, who had barely been listening to the conversation as he watched the green hills flash by the window, turned toward his friends. He had been much quieter than usual in the week leading up to their departure from school and Remus knew that he was dreading going back home to London for two months. Though Remus, too, was not looking forward to being home again, he knew that his troubles at home were nothing compared to what Sirius had to face.

Sirius shrugged. "They've never said anything to me about it. I did plenty of magic over the holidays and didn't get into any trouble. I reckon James is right about the Ministry not being able to tell if students are the ones doing it or their parents."

"Sirius, do you think you'll be allowed to come to James's house this year?" asked Peter, biting the head off of a chocolate frog in a rather aggressive fashion. James had asked them all the week before to come and visit over the summer.

Sirius and James exchanged a look. "I don't know, I guess it'll just depend on what kind of mood my dear old mum is in."

"And whether she still wants you to spy on me," grinned James. "You can tell her I'm the biggest pure-blood fanatic you've ever met if it'll mean you can visit me. The summer's going to be so bloody boring otherwise."

Sirius was marginally more cheerful after this. He reached over and grabbed a chocolate frog out of Peter's pile and tore it open, grinning down at the card that fell out of the wrapper and offering it to Peter.

"Here you go, Peter…Dumbledore again."

"Brilliant!" said Peter, snatching the card out of Sirius's hand and beaming down at it in excitement. "I think I've got about twenty of him now!"

Sirius and James exchanged a look, but had to avert their gazes quickly as to not burst into laughter. The four boys spent the remainder of the train ride reliving their greatest moments of the previous year – James teasing Sirius mercilessly about Gin – and thinking longingly about all of their plans for third year. All of them, Sirius included, were in decent spirits when the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross, and as his friends clapped him on the shoulder and bid their farewells, Remus grinned happily. Despite the stress and fear and mind-numbing anxiety he had suffered, second year had been the best year of his life.

And as long as James, Sirius, and Peter were by his side, he had no doubt that third year would be even better.


	22. 3-1 or 'A Proper Pureblood Family'

_A/N: Third year! Well, sort of. Summer before third year, at least. Thank you to my reviewers! You bring me so much joy! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do. Not much happens, but I love it anyway. James and Sirius are probably my favorite pairing to write at this point and this is an entire chapter of the two of them._

 _A quick note... Our characters are growing up and the story will be growing up along with them. The language will start to be a bit coarser at times. In my experience, nobody has dirtier mouths than teenage boys among their friends. If you're offended by that, or other normal teenager-y things, this may not be the story for you. That being said, I aim to keep this rated T throughout._

 _Other disclaimer: Everything you see here is the property of J.K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or the magical world in which he resides._

* * *

 **Chapter 22 - 3.1 or "A** ** _Proper_** **Pureblood Family"**

* * *

The summer sun was dipping below the tree line and casting a warm, golden shadow across the grass; the birds were singing merrily; he had an icy glass of pumpkin juice in one hand and a Muggle magazine in the other and Sirius could not remember ever being so happy outside of Hogwarts. He and James were sitting in the shade of a large oak tree in the Potters' massive garden, the heat of the day starting to fade as a pleasant breeze tickled their faces. James was clipping bent twigs off of his Cleansweep while the wireless next to them broadcasted live a match between the Wimbourne Wasps and the Montrose Magpies. Sirius's attention to the voice emitting from the speakers was inconsistent at best, as he sipped his pumpkin juice and flipped lazily through the glossy magazine he had purchased in the village that morning.

Sirius had arrived at the Potters' two days prior, so elated at his escape from Grimmauld Place that he had barely stopped grinning since. When the owl from James's mother had been received a week before, inviting Sirius to stay for as long as he wished, Walburga Black had pondered it only for a few hours before granting him permission to go, with the only stipulation being that he would need to return to Grimmauld Place for the last week of summer to report back. This meant that Sirius was now facing an entire month free of his family, with nothing to distract him from wholly enjoying the hazy days of summer alongside his best friend.

Their first order of business once reunited was to visit Diagon Alley, where Sirius was eager to exchange half of the Galleons his mother had given him (intended, of course, for finest new school robes) for Muggle pounds. Mr. Potter had accompanied him into Gringotts and seemed slightly surprised at Sirius's insistence that he needed the pounds so that he could buy himself some Muggle clothes. James, who had worn Muggle clothes for much of his life, found the whole thing very amusing. The next morning, James's parents had allowed the boys to wander up to the village at the top of the hill by themselves, where Sirius had proceeded to spend the vast majority of his money on new Muggle clothes and a stack of Muggle magazines, just for extra measure.

"And Smithey loops around Spaulding, who knocks the Quaffle free. It's Spaulding now, racing up the pitch towards the hoops, but she's knocked off course by an excellently aimed Bludger courtesy of Ludo Bagman, and the Wasps have retaken possession…"

"Come on, come on," muttered James, pausing in the middle of clipping a particularly stubborn twig to listen hard to the broadcast. "Get the Quaffle to Kittering, you idiots…"

Sirius took another sip of his pumpkin juice, which Flora had added a splash of lemonade to for a fresh twist, and flipped through his magazine. It had been an impulse purchase in the village, every page filled with photos of gleaming Muggle cars and motorbikes or articles detailing how to care for them and the new features they offered.

"Smithey to Becker, who lobs it back to Smithey, who drops it down to Kittering, it's Kittering toward the goal, only one man to beat…KITTERING SCORES! And the Magpies call a time out, the Wasps leading eighty to sixty. And we will be back after these short messages on the Wizarding Wireless Network."

"Ha!" said James proudly, turning back to his broomstick as advertisements began blaring out of the wireless. "Told you. Kittering should be touching the Quaffle on every possession…not sure why they have Smithey set as lead Chaser today…seems like a terrible strategy against the Magpies' defensive line…"

" _Whoa_ ," said Sirius loudly, his eyes glued to the magazine page he had just flipped to, which was an advertisement for car tires. The image featured a gleaming red sports car with two gorgeous Muggle girls draped across it, wearing very short shorts and even more revealing tops. At the top of the page, in a loopy typeface, the slogan read, "Roll With It."

"Whoa is right," James said, tossing his broomstick aside and moving closer to gaze at the girls, his mouth open slightly. "Good Merlin…"

"Do you think they're Muggles?" asked Sirius, his eyes raking over the page.

"Suppose so. Why wouldn't they be?"

"I've never seen Muggles looking like _that_ before."

James laughed and reluctantly tore his eyes away from the photo to turn back to his broomstick. "I've never seen _anybody_ looking like that before."

A catchy jingle was coming out of the wireless now, it's simple tune drifting across the garden. _"Got a rat's nest head or a mess of a mop? Sleekeazy's is there for you with just one drop!"_

James groaned loudly and reached out to turn the volume down on the wireless. Sirius looked up from the Muggle girls and gave him a questioning look.

"Don't like that jingle?"

"You wouldn't either if you had grown up in my house."

"Why's that?"

James frowned at him, confused by the question. "Because my dad invented Sleekeazy's, didn't you know?"

Sirius searched his brain, trying to recall if he had ever heard that bit of information before. Then he gave up and shrugged. "I knew he was a potion-maker, but you never mentioned Sleakeazy's in all your bragging about your dad."

"Huh," replied James, turning up the broadcast again now that the advertisement was over. "Well I've been hearing those jingles since I was born. For a while when they were doing rebranding, my dad barely ever stopped singing them, just to annoy Mum and me. You know the one, _'Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet, oh gosh darnit!'_? That one's the worst."

"Seems a bit ironic, mate," said Sirius, smirking as his eyes roamed over James's hair, which was sticking up in every direction as usual. "That your dad invented a hair potion, I mean."

"Ha ha," said James. "His hair's no better than mine. Why do you think he was experimenting in the first place?"

"So that's why you're so rich, then? Because of Sleekeazy's?" Sirius asked blatantly, knowing that talking about money had never made James remotely uncomfortable.

He shrugged. "Guess so. I think most of my family's been inventing potions for ages, even before my dad, though. You'd have to ask him."

"Your grandfather too?" Sirius knew that James had been very close with his grandfather before his death and had always wondered what that would be like – to have family members who you were actually excited to see and sad to see go.

James bit his lip as he thought about this. "I'm not sure if my grandpa ever did much with potions. He was on the Wizengamot for a while, I think, but he never talked about it much."

"And your mum's a Healer, right?"

"Was. She hasn't worked since before I can remember." He paused and stretched out – apparently satisfied now with the uniform direction of the twigs on his broomstick tail – and grinned at Sirius. "You're asking a lot of questions. Gathering information on the Potters to report back to your mum?"

Sirius barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Just curious. I've never known anyone's pureblood mum to have a job before, and even most of the old pureblood wizards don't work much, do they?"

James pondered this. "Really?"

"Before Hogwarts, the only person I knew who had a real _job_ job, like with a title and everything, was Avery's dad…he's high up in the Ministry somewhere." James sniggered and Sirius frowned at him. "What's so funny?"

"The idea of you and that prat Avery being mates once upon a time."

This, of course, was a sore spot for Sirius, but he had never let on to James just how sore. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "We weren't _mates_. Our parents are chummy, so they'd always try to get us to be friends…"

"Yeah, well, that worked out about as well as them trying to get you to be a Slytherin." Sirius said nothing, and James must have noticed his discomfort, for he let the subject of Marshall Avery drop. "You really think most purebloods don't have jobs?"

"Nah," said Sirius. "Not old money in the high circles. They're all just…connected…or something. My Aunt Lucretia once got a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but that was just because she thought she'd be allowed to arrest Muggles for no reason at all, so she quit after three days when she discovered that wasn't the case. I've never known anybody in my family to really work for a living. My dad's always just traveling, taking meetings at the Ministry or in foreign cities with random wizards I've never heard of, bringing home sacks of gold, you know how it is." He tried to keep his tone light, to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but James was now studying him with a troubled look on his face.

"Is your dad as bad as your mum?"

Sirius had never talked to anyone about his father before and he fidgeted again, staring resolutely at the hedges in the distance. "He's not around as much as her…doesn't yell like she does…but, yeah, he's just as bad."

James said nothing. The Quidditch match had resumed at some point in their conversation but neither of them was paying any attention to it. Sirius raised his glass to take another sip of his pumpkin juice before realizing his glass was empty.

"Well, if it helps, I don't care what you tell them about me, if it'll keep them off your back," said James. "You can make up whatever they want to hear, it doesn't make any difference to me what they think of me."

"Thanks," said Sirius, still gazing off into the distance. "Part of me wants to tell them you're the biggest Muggle-loving blood traitor in history just to brass them off. But part of me thinks that being here beats being there, and they'll only let me visit you over the holidays if they think you're from a _proper_ pureblood family."

"And by 'proper,' you mean…"

"You know, thinking all Muggles and Muggle-borns are scum. Thinking that being pureblood makes you naturally royal or something."

"Ah, yes," James said in an exaggerated, snooty voice. " _Naturally_."

Sirius chuckled. They lapsed into silence, the broadcast drifting across the garden.

"And Smithey – of course the ten-year veteran out of Leeds – racing up the pitch, ducks a Bludger…drops the Quaffle to Becker, who swerves Spaulding…and nice bit of defensive work there by the Magpies as Becker fumbles the Quaffle…recovered by Spaulding…I'm not sure what the Wasps are thinking with this scheme…there's no reason Kittering shouldn't be touching the Quaffle every possession as their usual lead Chaser, but they've switched Smithey in for the match…"

"That's what I said!" James exclaimed, as if vindicated by the wireless announcer agreeing with him.

Mrs. Potter's voice rang out from the doorway to the house and they both turned toward her. "James, dear! Sirius! Time to come in and wash up for dinner boys!"

"But Mum," James whined, "no one's caught the Snitch yet! We'll miss the end of the match!"

Mrs. Potter took a few steps into the garden toward them so she wouldn't have to continue shouting. She frowned at him. "I know, dear, but Flora made your favorite – shepherd's pie – and you don't want it to get cold do you?"

"I don't care if it's cold! I want to hear the end of the match!"

"Well, ten more minutes, then, and if you don't come in, we'll just give Sirius your helping and see how much you like it," she said, smiling warmly at Sirius who grinned back at her. She had been much more welcoming and affectionate toward Sirius on this visit than she had been the last time he had stayed with them and he had tried to be on his best behavior to show his appreciation.

When she disappeared back into the house James sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Hopefully they catch the Snitch soon, or else they'll be playing into the night, but there's no way I'm missing the end of the match just for dinner."

Sirius fought not to roll his own eyes, but said nothing, and when their ten minutes was up and they were summoned again, he walked happily into the Potters' house, James grumbling behind him.

* * *

The next day dawned just as sunny and hot as the prior, so after lunch, James suggested that they make the twenty minute trek to a large, shady lake, where his grandfather had taken him swimming as a child. By the time they reached it, the sun was high in the sky and hot on their necks, and the lake water felt so cool and refreshing that both of them simply floated on their backs for several minutes, reveling in the fresh water lapping at their sides.

The lake was nestled partially on the edge of a small forest, so that half of it was pleasantly shaded by towering trees with mossy limbs jutting out over the water like canopies. The other half seared under the direct summer sun, bleeding out onto a small, rocky beach, where tanned teenagers rubbed oil onto their blistering skin. As expected on such a hot day, it was crowded with swimmers of all ages, though the vastness of the lake still afforded it a secluded, peaceful atmosphere despite the gathering.

The boys whiled away the afternoon splashing in the water, racing one another from shore to shore (James was the better swimmer, but Sirius had longer limbs, so they were well-matched), and daring each other to do more and more outrageous jumps off of an overhanging tree limb. By the time the sun had crept down toward the tree tops, they had both perched on top of the tree limb, their fingertips shriveled and their shoulders pink. James was leaning against the trunk of the tree, his legs stretched out in front of him toward where Sirius sat near the end of the branch, his feet dangling toward the water and his eyes surveying the Muggles who were left swimming in the long shadows.

"We should come back tomorrow," James said, pulling his glasses off to wipe a few water droplets off of the lenses with his shorts. "And we can bring a rope so that we can get up to that branch up there."

He pointed to a limb hanging from the tree next to them which was significantly higher than the one they were currently perched on. Sirius's eyes followed James's indication and he grinned at the thought of diving into the water from so high up. "Can you imagine what Peter would say if you dared him to jump from up there?"

James laughed out loud and resettled his glasses on his nose. "He'd probably faint. He doesn't even know how to swim, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Sirius said, remembering their sojourn in the Hogwarts lake the year before. "We'll have to teach him when he and Remus come in a few weeks. It'd be good for him."

"I bet Remus would jump it, though," said James, still craning his neck to stare at the branch so far above him.

Sirius nodded, turning his gaze back to a group of Muggle girls who were sitting on the beach. "He would now, not when we first met him." He paused before completely changing the subject. "Hey, have you ever talked to a Muggle?"

James looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Have you ever talked to a Muggle? Like had a conversation with one?"

"Yeah, of course," replied James, his brow lowered in confusion at the question. "We live in a Muggle village. We used to have dinner with a group of Muggles down the street every once in a while. My parents are friends with loads of Muggles. Why? Have you?"

Sirius shook his head. Since arriving at Hogwarts, he had had a nagging feeling that he had missed out on a lot of normal experiences growing up because of the twisted views of his parents. They had told him every chance they got that Muggles were beneath them, that they were filthy and unworthy of a second glance. And while he had realized how warped their views were when he met his friends, he had never actually been around a Muggle for more than a few minutes.

"Not really. Not other than ticket takers and shop assistants and the like."

James was watching him closely, a slow grin spreading across his face when he looked out over the water, to where the Muggle girls sat on the beach. He looked back at Sirius.

"What?" asked Sirius, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I dare you to go talk to those Muggle girls."

Sirius swallowed and looked back toward the girls. There were four of them and, at least from a distance, they looked to be about his age. He didn't know what to say to a Muggle, but James was still grinning at him, egging him on, and Sirius had never backed down from one of James's dares. Taking a deep breath, and without another word to James, Sirius pushed himself off the branch and dove into the lake.

Once his head broke through the surface of the water, he grinned and shouted up to James, who was still perched on the tree limb above him. "Come on, then, unless you're too scared?"

James didn't need telling twice. He pulled his glasses off with one hand and followed Sirius into the water, the surface of the lake swelling and lapping when he splashed into it. Sirius set off for the shore, swimming easily and feeling both nervous and excited, wondering what he was supposed to talk to Muggles about. His mind was blank, though, and by the time his feet hit the sloping, rocky ground he had still not come up with anything and figured he'd just have to improvise.

The group of girls watched them as they climbed out of the water. Closer up, Sirius noted that two of them were at least a few years older than him and James, and looked at them with mild annoyance as they approached. The other two were younger and gazed at the pair of them with what seemed to be cautious interest.

"Hello," he said, angry at himself for feeling so nervous.

"Hi," said one of the younger girls. She had thick dark hair that fell below her shoulders and fringe that tickled her brow.

"Who are you?" asked one of the older girls with a note of impatience.

"Oh. I'm Sirius, and this is my mate, James. We noticed you from across the way. Just wanted to stop by to say hello."

"Hey, I know you!" said the dark hair girl, her eyes raking over James in recognition. "You're the Potter boy…lives on the other side of the village down the hill. You played football a few times with us when we were kids, do you remember?"

James was wiping the water off of his glasses again and paused to look at the girl. "Oh yeah, I remember that. That was ages ago!"

"I'm Elizabeth, and this is Maria," she said, indicating the other young girl, who was slight and blonde. She then pointed to their older companions, who were still looking annoyed at the boys' intrusion. "That's my sister Kate and her friend Sarah."

Sirius nodded at them all in turn, but Kate stood up suddenly and spoke to Elizabeth. "It's time to go, Liz. We have to get home for supper."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, looking put-out. "You go ahead, Maria and I will catch you up in a few minutes."

The sister rolled her eyes, but packed her towel away in her bag and waited for Sarah to do the same. Sirius and James both sat down on the rocky beach and watched them, Sirius shaking his dripping hair out of his eyes, his nerves starting to fade a bit. They were just Muggles. It was no different talking to them than talking to girls at Hogwarts…they would just have to be a bit more careful with what they said.

"Two minutes," the sister Kate said to the brown-haired Elizabeth. "We'll wait for you at the end of the path."

Elizabeth shrugged and smiled sweetly at her older sister. "We'll be there shortly, _Mum_."

The older girls stalked away, winding their way along the lakeshore and onto a path that led through the trees.

"Sorry about her," Elizabeth said brightly. "She can be a bit of a hypocrite. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to wait around for her while she's chatting blokes up." She paused and then eyed Sirius. "Are you from around here, too? I don't think I've noticed you before."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm from London. Just visiting James here for the month."

"You don't go to Bishop, though, do you?" asked the girl called Maria, speaking for the first time. She was cuter than her friend Elizabeth, and had an airy, pixie-like look to her, with her blonde hair falling just below her ears. Sirius eyed her appreciatively and assumed that Bishop was the name of the local school.

"Er, no," answered James, looking somewhat awkward. "We go to school up North…erm, Hog – Hollings."

Elizabeth frowned, her brow lowered in concentration. "Hollings? Don't think I've heard of it."

"What year are you?" James asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Year nine," Elizabeth said, which completely confused Sirius. He glanced at James, who also seemed confused by this answer.

"Oh, us too," he lied, hoping they would not continue questioning them about school.

"Do you still play football?" Elizabeth asked James.

He shrugged. "Not much. What about you?"

"Oh yeah, both Maria and I play on the school team. We won the league last year."

"Brilliant," said James, who seemed to find her interest in sport – even a completely different sport from Quidditch – to be common ground. "What position do you play?"

"I'm midfield and Maria's our best forward." She paused and then glanced over to the other side of the lake, where her sister was waiting for her. "We'd better get going, though, before Kate has a fit."

"We'll probably be back tomorrow," said Sirius, smiling at Maria, who blushed and looked away. "If you're around, we'll pop by to say hello."

The girls stood up and packed up their things. "Nice chatting," said Elizabeth, once her bag was slung over her shoulder. "See you around."

James and Sirius waved at them as they walked around the lake and toward where the older girls were still waiting for them. James looked over at Sirius and raised his eyebrows.

"See? It's not so bad, talking to Muggles. Now I've just got to go learn more about football…"

"Not so bad," Sirius agreed, watching Maria's small, retreating form and trying not to smirk when she turned half-way around the lake to look back at them. "I think I could get used to this talking-to-Muggles business."

* * *

The boys went back to the lake nearly every day for the next two weeks, where they met up with Elizabeth and Maria a handful more times. Despite the obvious fact that they had very little in common with the Muggles, they had come to the realization early on that Muggle girls – perhaps similar to witches – liked nothing more than to talk about themselves. James had indeed learned much more about football (taking a page out of Sirius's book and buying some Muggle magazines about the subject) and was entertained by Elizabeth's ardor for the sport; Sirius, meanwhile, flirted shamelessly with Maria, who seemed to be in a constant state of blushing whenever he was around. When they got bored, they would say their goodbyes and go back to climbing higher and higher among the overhanging tree branches, from which they would then make spectacular dives into the icy lake water.

The day before Remus and Peter were set to arrive found James and Sirius lying flat on their backs in the Potters' garden. They had spent the morning on the makeshift Quidditch pitch, playing a sort of one-on-one Quidditch that James referred to as 'Knock,' for reasons unknown to Sirius. Sirius acquiesced easily whenever James beseeched him to play, but much preferred racing or diving contests to the Chasing and Keeping required of him in Knock. The fact that James was head and shoulders better than him at the game made it a little less fun, anyway.

They had decided not to make the trek to the lake that day, as the dark clouds overhead had been threatening rain since morning, though no downpour had yet been uncorked. In their boredom that afternoon, and after Sirius insisted that he needed a break from all the flying, they had developed a new game, and were now both pointing their wands skyward at a dusty red Quaffle and James's old Shooting Star (under no circumstances would he allow them to use his Cleansweep for these purposes). James flicked his wand and the Quaffle darted forward toward the broomstick, which Sirius was controlling. With a quick wave of Sirius's wand, the broomstick struck out against the Quaffle, causing it to soar away and land on the ground some twenty meters away with a thump.

"Ha!" said Sirius, raising his head up from the grass just enough to watch the Quaffle roll toward the edge of the garden. "That beats your shot easy."

James frowned and summoned the Quaffle back to him. "All right then, let me see if I can get it past the hedges over there."

Sirius flicked his wand and the Quaffle soared back skyward once more, toward the floating broomstick, which batted at it and missed.

"No fair," James said as Sirius laughed. "You did that on purpose."

"Okay, okay. Try again, I'll go easy on you this time."

James snorted. "You're a smug git now that you're out of the air, you know that?"

Sirius just laughed and flicked his wand. Once again, the Quaffle leapt toward the broomstick, which this time made contact with it. They both watched as the red ball arced toward the hedges, falling to the ground just in front of them. This game continued on for a while, both of them egging the other on as the broom hit the Quaffle farther and farther away.

"I think that Liz girl fancies you," Sirius said out of the blue, his eyes following the graceful arc of the red ball toward a large oak tree.

James glanced at him, his ears turning pink. "What makes you say that?"

Sirius tried not to grin as he summoned the Quaffle back to them once more. "She's barely said two words to me the last few days and, I don't know…the way she follows you around and hangs on your every word…"

"Yes well, I'm very interesting, didn't you know?" joked James, the broomstick taking a swing above them and hitting the ball at an odd angle, so that it dropped only a few feet from them.

"You should snog her," Sirius said easily.

James sputtered. "What?"

"Before the end of the summer. You should snog her. I bet she'd be down for it."

Composing himself, James summoned the Quaffle back once more and lobbed it up toward the broom. "Not everyone just goes around snogging girls randomly like you, mate."

"I do not snog girls _randomly_. I have kissed _one_ girl _two_ times."

"Yes, but you don't even _like_ that one girl."

"Sure I do." James gave him a disbelieving look and Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "I like Gin plenty. I mean, she's the best looking girl in our year."

"Is she?" asked James weakly, directing his wand so that the broomstick spun around in a full circle before smacking into the Quaffle. "Evans is pretty good looking, you know? And Adin, I suppose."

"Adin's a tad annoying, yeah? And Evans might be a touch mad, what with hanging round Snape all the time," Sirius said.

"Well Gin's not exactly what you'd call normal."

Sirius frowned. For some reason, this statement rankled. "She just likes to keep to herself I guess."

James laughed and flicked his wand once more. "She doesn't keep her lips to herself."

"Sod off," muttered Sirius. "And why are we talking about Gin, anyway? What about that Liz girl?"

"What about her?"

Sirius paused for dramatic effect before revealing the ultimate trump card. "I _dare you_ to kiss her before the end of the summer."

James sighed, cornered by the dare. "You're such a bastard."

Grinning, Sirius opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a shout from behind them.

 _"James Fleamont Potter!"_

Both boys sprang up from the grass and tucked their wands out of sight at once, causing the broomstick and the Quaffle to immediately fall to the earth around them. James's father was standing behind them, looking downright furious. Even despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, Sirius fought back a laugh at this brand new bit of information. James's middle name was _Fleamont?_

"Er, hi Dad!" James said cheerfully as both he and Sirius brushed the grass off their clothes.

"Don't 'Hi Dad' me, James," said Mr. Potter in a stern voice. James grimaced. "You were doing magic! In broad daylight! Over the summer! You could be expelled from Hogwarts for that!"

"Oh, come on, Dad. We were just having a bit of fun."

"That is not a bit of fun, James! I'm shocked at this behavior."

"All right, all right," said James, giving his father a sheepish smile as though trying to indulge him. "But wasn't it good magic, though? We're not even supposed to learn summoning until fourth year, and Sirius and I can do it no sweat!"

Mr. Potter exhaled through his nose in a way that reminded Sirius distinctly of Professor McGonagall. This did nothing to lessen his nerves. The last thing he had wanted to do was to anger Mr. and Mrs. Potter. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder signaled the rain was imminent.

"The impressiveness of the magic has nothing to do with this, James. There are rules and laws for a reason and the fact that you were blatantly disregarding one of the most stringent rules in our world is completely unacceptable."

"Stringent?" James said, and even in his anxiousness Sirius found it remarkable how easily James talked back to his parents. "It's not stringent at all! The Ministry can't know who's doing the magic, if it's underage or if it's you or Mum. In fact, the impressiveness _does_ matter, because even if they looked into it, they wouldn't think two third years would be able to do those spells, anyway. There's no way we could get in trouble for it!"

"Think again," said Mr. Potter, and he held out his hand expectantly. James stared at it. "I'll be taking your wands."

" _What?_ Dad, no way! You can't take our wands!"

Mr. Potter stared down his only son, his hand still outstretched. "Watch me."

James was breathing heavily through his nose, clearly furious at his father, who was staring resolutely back, his outstretched hand steady between the two of them. Fuming, James pulled his wand out of his back pocket and slapped it into his father's palm. Then, without another word or glance at either of them, he turned on his heel and stalked into the house, slamming the door loudly behind him. Slowly, Sirius pulled his own wand out and placed it in Mr. Potter's hand on top of James's.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Sirius as Mr. Potter pocketed the wands. He felt shame creeping over him as Mr. Potter surveyed him. Sirius had wanted this man to like him, had wanted all along to show him that he was not what they had expected him to be…that he was different from his family…

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Potter," he repeated, a slight desperation to his voice. This was different than being caught in wrongdoing by one of the Hogwarts professors, and so very, very different from how he felt when he angered his own parents. Mr. Potter said nothing, but frowned at him, so Sirius continued, trying to stave off the fear that he had messed everything up. "It's my fault. It was my idea, not James's."

"Sirius," said Mr. Potter calmly, "it's okay. I'll be keeping your wands for the time-being, though, and as punishment –"

"No," Sirius cut in, his voice cracking, his thoughts flying to his father's wand. "No, don't punish James. Please don't. It was my idea, you can punish me if you need to, just don't –"

Mr. Potter put a steady hand on Sirius's shoulder, looking startled at the panic in his voice. "Sirius!" he said loudly, and Sirius looked up into his lined face and stopped talking at once, his mouth very dry. "Hey, Sirius, it's all right. I was going to say that you two will do the washing up for Flora and Ant tonight as punishment."

He could feel the heat rising up in his face as Mr. Potter looked at him with concern, his hand still gripping his shoulder tightly. "Oh. Right. Okay. I'm really sorry, Mr. Potter, again."

Mr. Potter smiled kindly at him, right as the first few raindrops of the day splattered down around them. "Apology accepted. Now let's get into the house before the sky opens up, shall we? We'll get Flora to make us some tea while we allow James to sulk in his room for a bit."

Sirius nodded, picked up the Shooting Star from the grass, and followed Mr. Potter into the house as the rain started pinging loudly against the roof, wondering – with parents like his – what in the world James Potter had to sulk about.


	23. 3-2 or 'Just Like the Rest of Them'

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews. You guys are great! Now enjoy summer of 1973 part 2..._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling is a queen and owns everything._

* * *

 **Chapter 23 - 3.2 or "Just Like the Rest of Them"**

* * *

Remus and Peter arrived via Floo to the Potter house the next afternoon and both found it very amusing that James's father had confiscated his wand.

"So you're telling me, after all of your big talk, after all of the grief you gave Peter, that your parents took your wand away for the summer too?" Remus asked with an air of great entertainment. The four boys were sitting on the floor of James's bedroom, filling each other in on their summers thus far. The rain from the previous evening had not let up and was lashing loudly against the windows. It was quite peaceful, really.

James scowled. "Yeah, well…I guess we were being a bit obvious about doing magic. It won't last longer than a day or two. I'm sure I can get my mum to cave soon enough."

Remus chuckled and took out his own wand, which he twirled between his fingers and studied in mock concentration. "Hmm…so of the four of us…I'm the only one that's still got his wand. Just think…I could jinx you and you couldn't do anything about it. Ah, so much power…"

James flung a pillow at his head as both Sirius and Peter laughed.

"You'd better be careful, Moony. Even without wands, I'm pretty sure the three of us could take you on."

Remus chucked the pillow back at James, who caught it easily and shoved it behind his back, cushioning himself against the wall.

"Stop calling me Moony."

"Would you prefer Wolfman?" said Sirius innocently. "Flea-bag? What about the Monthly Mongrel? That's got a nice ring to it, actually…"

"I'd prefer you shut it and not call me something that will give everyone a clue about what I am."

"No one's got a clue. You worry too much, Moony."

Remus crossed his arms and glared at Sirius as both James and Peter laughed. "You just wait. Once you lot become Animagi, I get to find a name for each of you. _Flea-bag_ , I mean, honestly…"

"I've been practicing loads," said Peter. "I think maybe I'm starting to feel something, too."

"Oh yeah?" James asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What's it feel like?"

"Well it's only happened a couple of times. And it wasn't like the book said it would be, but I think I'm getting closer. It's like…I get to a point where I'm thinking only about how I felt after we took the potion, you know? There was a moment in my trance or whatever it was…just a moment…and it felt like…peace. And that's what I've been trying to get back to and focus on."

"And you've been able to do that?" asked Sirius, stretching out his legs and kicking away James's foot, which had inched into his space.

Peter nodded. "I think so. A few times, I've got a bit caught up in it…in that feeling, I mean…and I've felt something in my stomach…like a whoosh or a rush or something. But then it startles me and I come back to earth and lose it all."

"Whoa," said James, clearly impressed.

"That's brilliant, Peter!" said Remus. Peter suddenly seemed to be sitting much taller.

"We'd better be careful, James," joked Sirius. "Or else Peter's going to be transforming without us."

"Well, if part of the process of becoming an Animagus is being introspective and _quiet_ , then you're definitely out of luck, Sirius," said Remus dryly.

Sirius stretched out to kick Remus's leg as well, but Remus dodged his foot and waved his wand tauntingly.

"Oh right, like you'd really do magic outside of school, Mr. I-Love-The-Rules," scoffed Sirius, smirking at the wand.

Remus flicked his wand and Sirius dove to try and avoid the spell, but none had been cast. They all laughed loudly at the irked expression on Sirius's face as he straightened back up.

"Yes," said Remus, pocketing his wand once more. "Because you know me…I _never_ break the rules…haven't broken a _single_ school rule since meeting you lot…"

"It seems we've been rubbing off on the poor boy, Sirius," James said in mock concern.

"Yes, his mother must be so disappointed. Imagine what she'll say when he gets chucked in Azkaban for doing underage magic."

All of them laughed, Remus included, thrilled to be in each other's presence once more.

* * *

By the next day, the rain had cleared and had left behind a heavy, humid heat, so the four boys trekked to the lake after lunch, where James and Sirius introduced Remus and Peter to the Muggle girls, who seemed annoyed to have to share their attention with two additional people. Neither James nor Sirius cared much, and they bid their farewells early, spending most of the day teaching a very nervous Peter how to swim. By the time they made their way home, Peter was able to awkwardly swim the length of the lake, though he had outright refused to jump into the water from the trees, opting instead to cheer them on from the safety of the shore.

Sirius woke up early the following morning and, not wanting to wake Remus, who was kipping on a camp bed in the room with him, grabbed one of his Muggle magazines off the bedside table and crept downstairs to find breakfast. The sun was low in the sky, but blindingly bright, and the birds were singing so loudly that Sirius found it remarkable that anyone could sleep through the noise. He walked into the kitchen, assuming it would be empty, and found James's father sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Mr. Potter looked up from his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ when Sirius entered.

"Good morning, Sirius," he said cheerfully. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," he said, feeling awkward. "Er, is it all right if I join you?"

Mr. Potter smiled and adjusted his paper so that it took up less of the table surface. "Of course. Would you like some breakfast?"

Flora had appeared at his side upon his entrance and was blinking happily up at him as Sirius sat down. "Yeah, I'd love some toast, Flora, if you don't mind."

"No sir, not at all. With the blackberry jam that you like, sir?"

"Yes, please, and –"

"Some juice too, sir?" she finished for him, a toothy smile overtaking her wrinkled face. "The fresh squeezed kind you had yesterday?"

"That'd be great. Thanks Flora."

The elf hurried off and Mr. Potter chuckled lightly. "She must really like you, Sirius. She normally only offers the fresh-squeezed juice to James."

"She and Ant are so nice," said Sirius.

He nodded and took a sip of his tea. "Flora's been with me since I was a child…she and Vorren – that was Ant's father – but he passed away when James was young. Old age. It was as bad as losing a family member."

"We have a house elf named Kreacher," Sirius told him. "He's obsessed with my mum so he hates me. I never knew elves could be so friendly until I met yours and a few of the Hogwarts elves…"

Mr. Potter gave a light chuckle. "Found the kitchens, then, have you?"

"Oh," Sirius said, shifting in his seat and realizing his slip. "Er…I've just run into a few of them now and again in different parts of the castle…" It wasn't a lie, per se, but he could tell Mr. Potter wasn't fooled. Luckily, they were interrupted by Flora, who had returned with Sirius's toast and juice.

"Is there anything else I can bring for you, sir?"

"No thanks, Flora, this is perfect."

The elf bowed low to them before leaving. Mr. Potter had thankfully let the Hogwarts kitchen discussion drop and had turned back to the _Prophet_ , so Sirius opened his magazine and began munching on his toast. He was reading all about a new motorbike that had come out in America when a thought occurred to him.

"Mr. Potter?" he asked, and Mr. Potter looked up at him expectantly. "Er, you own a car, right?"

"Yes. Apparating at our age isn't good for the bones, so we've owned our car for years. Why do you ask?"

"Well, have you ever had a motorbike?"

Mr. Potter chuckled and took another sip of his tea before answering. "No, I don't think James's mother would like that very much. And I'm a little old for thrills like that, to tell you the truth. Why do you ask?"

"I think I'd like one," Sirius said, his eyes scanning back over the photo of the gleaming motorbike in the article he was reading. "But I've never known anyone to have one. I mean, they're for Muggles, aren't they?"

Mr. Potter pondered this. "I guess technically, yes, they are for Muggles. But so were cars originally and wizards have been using those for decades. They're handy, like I said, for people who can't Apparate or Floo easily, like older folk or parents with small children."

"So you think it's okay, then? For wizards to have Muggle things?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it. If you want a motorbike, Sirius, maybe you can get one when you're of age." He was looking at Sirius closely, a small smile on his lips. Suddenly uncomfortable, Sirius broke his gaze and took another bite of toast. "James mentioned that the two of you signed up to take Muggle Studies next term."

This, of course, would have been a sore spot for most pureblood parents who Sirius knew, and as open-minded as the Potters seemed, he wasn't sure how they would react to that information. Sirius swallowed down the bite of toast and straightened his back instinctively against the chair. "Yes, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir,' Sirius."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"What made you want to take Muggle Studies?"

He didn't seem cross at the idea, at least. "I've never known anything about Muggles, so I thought it would be interesting." Sirius, shrugged and then added, before he could stop himself, "Plus I knew it would annoy my mother the most."

Mr. Potter's lips twitched at this. "Well, at first I wasn't pleased when James told me. You know, Muggle Studies is sometimes considered a soft option and I was thinking his time may be put to better use in Arithmancy. But the more I thought about it, the more I think it will be good for him. He hasn't had a lot of interactions with Muggles…sometimes I regret not sending him to Muggle primary school before Hogwarts."

"James knows loads more about Muggles than I do," said Sirius, thinking back to the conversation they had by the lake a few weeks ago. "I had never really talked to a Muggle before this summer."

Mr. Potter looked at him sharply. "You two have been talking to Muggles?"

"Er, yes, at the lake. We made a few Muggle friends." He swallowed, wondering if he had inadvertently let evidence of their wrongdoing slip for a second time that morning. "Were we not supposed to?"

"No, that's fine," Mr. Potter said. "As long as you're careful about what you say to them. It can be hard, I know, to keep so much of your life a secret when you're friends with Muggles."

"It's not too hard," said Sirius, relaxing now that Mr. Potter did not seem remotely angry about any of it. "They're a lot like witches, really. Once we get them talking about themselves, they forget to ask us questions."

"They're girls then, these Muggles?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, picking at the crust of his toast. "We've chatted with them a few times, but like I said, they don't really ask us too many questions."

Mr. Potter's smile was at once knowing and curious. "Well, be careful is all I can say. The Statute of Secrecy is not something to be taken lightly. I know you and James don't set much store by the rules…"

"We'll be careful," said Sirius without hesitation. "It's fun talking to them, but we wouldn't ever say anything about Hogwarts or magic."

Mr. Potter finished the last of his tea and leaned back in his chair, still surveying Sirius, who was reminded of his encounter with Dumbledore on the Quidditch pitch, and the way the headmaster's eyes had seemed to travel straight through him. "You're a funny kid, Sirius. And you're a good friend to James. You're always welcome here, I want you to know."

"Thanks," said Sirius, feeling honored. "I really like it here."

"Well consider this an open invitation to visit over the holidays, whenever you'd like."

Mr. Potter smiled at him and then went back to his paper. Sirius felt a warmth spread in his chest, realizing that he had never felt so welcome anywhere as he did at that moment.

* * *

"My sister's having a party tonight, and she said I could invite some friends if it meant I wouldn't tell our parents."

The boys had spent another afternoon at the lake and had stopped by the beach to say hello to Elizabeth and Maria before setting out for home.

"Oh yeah?" asked James with interest. Peter and Remus were hanging back a few steps, still not entirely comfortable talking to the Muggle girls.

"You should come," Maria told Sirius, who could not muster up too much excitement at the idea, as he had started to find the girls a bit boring in recent days.

"Definitely," agreed Elizabeth, smiling at James. "And you can bring your mates. There'll be loads of people, I'm sure."

"We'll try," said James noncommittally, glancing at Sirius, who shrugged back at him.

"Well it'll probably be the biggest party of the summer, so you don't want to miss it, if you can help it. Our house is the old farm house on Highland Street, on the other side of the church. You know where that is?"

"Yeah, I know where that is," said James.

"Good. Starts at sundown. Hope to see you there."

The boys made their goodbyes and started off around the lake, back toward the Potters' house.

"What do you reckon?" James asked them once they were out of earshot.

"Have you ever been to a Muggle party?" asked Peter, swatting at a mosquito that was buzzing around his face.

"Well you know I haven't," muttered Sirius.

"Nope," said James.

"I have," Remus said. They all turned and looked at him, Peter stumbling a bit over a gnarled root. "I mean, not like this one's probably going to be. But I've been to family parties, you know, cousins' birthdays and the like."

"So what do you think, Mr. Apparently-I'm-a-Rebel-Now-and-Love-to-Break-Rules?" said James, shoving Remus in the shoulder. "Should we give it a shot? My parents are having the Boneses for dinner tonight; they probably won't notice if we sneak out."

"The Boneses?" asked Peter. "Is Stu coming?"

"Nah, it'll just be Stu and Eddie's grandparents. No fun for us, let me tell you…" He paused and looked back at all of them again. "So should we go?"

Much to all their surprise, it was Remus who answered with a shrug. "If you want. It could be interesting, at least."

"Ha!" said James, jumping triumphantly in the air. "I told you, Sirius, we've been a bad influence on him."

Something stirred within Sirius, something that he could not remember ever feeling before, and he realized that for the first time in his life, he was hesitant to break the rules. He didn't want to jeopardize his welcome place in the Potter household. He would never admit that to his friends, though, not when Remus and even Peter seemed so amenable to the rule-breaking.

By that evening, though, Sirius's hesitancy had been trumped by both an excited curiosity and a slight vindictive pleasure at the thought of what his parents would do if they knew he was going to a Muggle party. James's parents were entertaining George and Abigail Bones for dinner on the back terrace, and had paid the four boys little attention when they had claimed they were turning in early for bed. By the time night had completely fallen, with the stars twinkling in an otherwise clear sky and the crickets orchestrating their nightly chorus, the four boys were all sequestered in James's bedroom, each clutching one of James's old and unused broomsticks.

"Okay," James said, pacing in front of the other three as if preparing them for battle. "You can follow me, just remember to fly left out of the window, or else you'll be seen from the back of the house, and my parents are still out there. Once we get round to the front, we can stash the brooms in those hedges on the edge of the path and walk from there."

There was a familiar thrill of impending rebellion fluttering in Sirius's stomach as he watched James move to open the window. One hand still holding his broom, James grasped the elaborately adorned silver handle and turned it. A loud creak echoed around the room and they all froze, listening hard. After a moment's pause, James pushed and the window cracked open with a low, protesting groan from the hinges. Once again, James froze and they all held their breaths as the voices of the adults floated up to them from the terrace; once they were satisfied that no one below had heard the window open, James began pushing it again, painstakingly slowly to keep the hinges from creaking.

"…and I have to say, I never thought I'd see Dumbledore this worried again, not since all that business with Grindelwald so long ago…"

With the window now half open, they could hear the conversation that drifted up from the terrace. The mention of Dumbledore caused them all to exchange curious glances and James stopped in his endeavor to listen harder.

"It doesn't surprise me that he's worried," came James's father's voice. "There have been some strange happenings the last few years, we've all noticed it. We've all been affected."

"And now, with Caius Doge having up and disappeared…"

"You really think it's foul-play?" asked James's mother. "There's no chance he just wandered off? I mean to say, he's getting up there in age…"

"Aren't we all?" said the gravelly voiced Mr. Bones and there was a smattering of chuckles.

Mrs. Bones's voice sounded low and anxious when she spoke. "It's been a week since Caius went missing and Elphias is certainly worried…says that even despite his age, Caius has always been sharp as a knarl quill. And you know how close Elphias and Dumbledore are…"

"Dumbledore came round our house a few days after Caius disappeared," said Mr. Bones.

"Did he?" asked James's father, sounding interested.

"He wanted to know if we had seen anything strange, but we haven't talked to Caius in months. He didn't stay long, but a few things he mentioned made us think that he's worried…and that he's starting to act."

"Yes," James's mother sighed. "We thought he might be."

"He's gathering supporters, from as far as we can tell. Those of us who would stand up to it, form a resistance movement of sorts," said Mr. Bones.

Sirius glanced at his friends, all of whom were now crowded closely around the half-open window, listening hard. Here again was talk of some sort of impending clash that none of them could seem to understand.

"I am assuming you indicated you would join him?" asked Mrs. Potter.

"We insinuated as much, though he knows that our fighting days are long behind us. We'd be able to help him with resources – gold, useful Ministry connections." Mr. Bones paused briefly before adding, "I wouldn't be surprised if he reached out to the two of you soon for similar allegiances."

Sirius saw James frown in the dim light, clearly wondering why Dumbledore would be reaching out to his parents.

"We should go," Peter whispered nervously, but James waved him off.

"…and as you said, George," James's father was saying, "none of us is young and spry anymore. If he's looking for fighters, we'll not be much help."

"Ah, Fleamont," said Mr. Bones, suddenly sounding more lighthearted, "you know you were always the best dueler in our year."

They heard Mr. Potter chuckle and say, "That was a long, long time ago, old friend."

"I have to say," said Mr. Bones after a few moments where all they could hear was the tinkling of forks on the dinnerware, "I was surprised when you mentioned that you were housing the Black boy again for the summer."

Sirius felt his breath catch in his throat as the other three turned to look at him.

"He and James are good friends," said Mrs. Potter easily. "And he's really a very sweet boy."

"Are you sure there's not more to the story?" said Mr. Bones, and Sirius could barely hear what they were saying over the blood pumping in his ears.

"More to the story?" echoed Mrs. Potter.

"The Blacks are notorious supporters of the Dark Arts, Euphemia," said Mr. Bones. "I don't need to tell you that. I'm sure many of them have already sided up, and if they haven't, it won't be long now."

"Yes, well, we did have concerns originally about the friendship," said Mr. Potter, "but we've both spent time with Sirius and somehow, perhaps even extraordinarily, he seems to have escaped the warped disposition of the rest of his family. He's a good lad."

"Stuart said something similar," said Mrs. Bones, "but they're still so young…"

"Yes, he's only – what – thirteen? I'd be cautious if they stay friends, Fleamont. Chances are he'll turn out just like the rest of them."

Sirius felt like he was being suffocated by the eyes of his friends. Avoiding Remus and Peter's stares, he looked directly at James and said, quietly but forcefully, "Can we go now?"

James said nothing but immediately turned and finished pushing open the window. The conversation continued from the terrace, but Sirius blocked it out, his ears pulsing with his own rage and embarrassment. Once the window was fully open, James mounted his broomstick and flew silently out of it and Sirius did not waste a second before following him. They skirted the edge of the house and landed gingerly on the front lawn, Remus and Peter touching down moments after them, both still stealing furtive glances at Sirius. No one spoke until after they had stashed their brooms under the hedges that lined the garden path and had made their way halfway down the dark street.

Sirius didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Would there ever be a time when this perception of him changed? How long would it take before people didn't automatically assume he was just another twisted Black satisfied with the comforts and status that his family name could bring him? Would he ever get past the rage that consumed him when people assumed the worst of him just because of his last name?

He kicked a stone along the street and walked quickly, despite not knowing entirely where he was going. James hurried along beside him with Remus and Peter trailing a few steps behind.

"Don't listen to them, mate," James said. "They don't know what they're talking about."

Sirius made a low, indistinct noise in his throat but said nothing.

"Look," James continued when he realized that Sirius wasn't going to respond, "I've known the Boneses my whole life – they're my parents' best friends. They're good people, but they're a little set in their ways, you know? I'm sure if they spent time with you, they'd –"

"It's fine, James," Sirius cut in, wanting desperately for him to stop talking.

"No, it's not fine. It's rubbish, what they said. If they knew you, they'd figure it out straight away."

Something about this statement seemed to trigger an eruption within Sirius, and he stopped walking underneath a flickering streetlamp and turned to look at James, furious.

"So what am I supposed to do, eh?" he shouted, ignoring Peter who had walked right into him when he had stopped so abruptly. "What – am I supposed to go around and meet every single bloody person who's ever heard of the Blacks and convince them that I'm not some bigoted nutter like the rest of my sodding family? Maybe this is on them, not me! Maybe they should actually meet a person before they assume he's doomed to be nothing more than evil, worthless scum!"

"They didn't say that, Sirius," said James sharply, his glasses reflecting the orange light flickering above them.

"Why are you defending them?" Sirius yelled, not knowing why he was shouting at James but knowing that it felt good to yell. There was nothing around to punch, after all.

"Why are you taking this out on me, you idiot?" James yelled back.

"Sirius," Remus said slowly, taking a step between the pair of them. "I get why you're angry. I understand –"

"Don't say you understand. You don't understand," Sirius snarled, turning on Remus.

Remus, though, stood his ground and said in a low, calm voice, "Don't I?"

It took only a moment of staring at one another before some of Sirius's rage was doused by quickly mounting remorse.

Remus did not falter, though. "I know what it's like to have a part of you that every single person you meet might judge you on. You think you're the only one who's ever heard someone talking about you? About what you'll become?"

"No – I didn't mean –"

"All you can do is to try and prove them wrong," Remus cut across him. "That's all any of us can do. To – to keep trying to make an impact and to hope it's a good one."

Exhaling loudly and feeling stupid, Sirius looked up at the flickering streetlamp and then kicked at another loose pebble on the pavement before gazing back at Remus.

"When did you stop being so stutter-y and get to be so wise?" Sirius asked, trying to keep his tone light to cover the bitterness that was still stuck in his throat.

Even in the dim, orange light of the lamp, Remus's flush was evident. He grinned sheepishly. "I've always been wise, you've just been too stupid to pay attention."

Sirius snorted, James let out a sort of breathy chuckle, and Peter gave a nervous giggle. They all turned and started walking again, the tension left behind underneath the streetlamp.

"Well," said James, "I definitely took one thing away from my parents' conversation."

"What's that?" said Sirius, feeling stupider with every step for having yelled at his friends.

"That my mum clearly doesn't know you at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Peter.

"Didn't you hear her? She called Sirius _a very sweet boy_. I mean, has she even _met_ this git?"

Remus and Peter both laughed loudly as Sirius shoved James off the pavement and into the street. "Shut it, _Fleamont_."

As they turned down a side street that was much darker than the one they had just been on, the others began trying to decipher the meaning of the rest of the conversation they had overheard, but Sirius only half-listened. He was still angry at what Mr. Bones had said about him, but now on top of that, he was angry at himself for having yelled at his friends – his friends who had never once judged him because of his name.

After about fifteen more minutes of walking, they turned down a gravel lane and passed a small, country church, at which point they could hear music playing in the distance. It was the music, more than anything, that caused Sirius to remember where they were going, and for the first time, he became excited by the thought. What would his parents say – heck, what would that Mr. Bones say – if they knew he was going to a Muggle party, had been talking to Muggles on numerous occasions, had made friends with a Muggle girl who blushed whenever he looked at her? He hurried his pace toward the farmhouse that had just come into view on the other side of the church.

There was no doubt that they were in the right place. The farmhouse sat back from the street, isolated from any other houses by the vast amount of land on which it was nestled. From the front, they could hear the music more distinctly, mingled with a hum of chatter and shouts of laughter that drifted toward them from the back. The four boys walked up the dirt lane that skirted around the side of the house, past several older kids who were perched on a rickety fence but who did not give them a second glance. Around the back, they found a mass of people, many of whom were grouped around a large bonfire despite the heat of the night. The music was blaring from an elaborate Muggle contraption that could be seen just inside the doorway that led into the house. The fire illuminated their surroundings in a flickering, smoky haze, though in the distance they could see Muggles holding thick cylinders, from which white beams of light were gleaming.

"What are those?" Sirius asked in awe.

Remus followed his eyes. "Electric torches. Muggle versions of _Lumos_."

Sirius stared at them for a moment in fascination before turning his eyes back to the scene around them, a nervous excitement flooding through him. There were dozens of Muggle teenagers, most a few years older than them, strewn about the yard, taking advantage of the freedom afforded to them by the lack of adults – dancing, smoking, chatting each other up, passing around half-full bottles of mysterious liquids. The fire roared, centering the scene, reaching high enough that Sirius had to crane his neck to see the top of the flames spitting toward the star-specked sky.

"You made it!" came a squeal from somewhere near the house.

They all turned to see Elizabeth hurrying toward them, Maria and a small band of similarly-aged friends trailing after her.

"Glad you could come," she said once she had sidled up next to James. "Wasn't too hard to find, right? Well, here, let me introduce you to some of our mates – they came over from Woodsworth just for the party."

Elizabeth's face was shining in the light of the fire, and she was talking much faster than Sirius had ever heard her speak, though from nerves or excitement, he wasn't sure. She proceeded to introduce them to the group so quickly that Sirius did not even attempt to remember any of their names and while they all said hello and nodded in turn, the two boys in the pack did not seem overly excited to be meeting the four of them.

"You want something to drink? I doubt we could snag any of the rum, maybe we could get our hands on some of the beer… Where's my sister? If she catches me drinking, she'll kill me – but there's some other drinks over there –"

"Er, no," said Sirius, looking at James with raised eyebrows before smiling at her. "I think we're okay for now."

"Great! Well let's get away from the fire, it's so bloody hot standing here, come on…" She grabbed James's hand and led them all over to a patch of land just outside the ring of light that was being cast by the fire. Two sizable wooden logs and a few rickety chairs had just been vacated by an assembly of loud boys, and the group took up residence on them.

It was a very surreal experience, socializing with a large group of Muggles like this. Elizabeth began an unceasing stream of chatter in James's ear off as soon as they had sat down, and while the rest of the group fell into easy conversation, Sirius sat on one of the logs with Remus and Peter, feeling distinctly awkward and unlike himself. After a while, the three of them began quietly commenting to each other on James's inability to escape Elizabeth's grasp, and it was only when they started sniggering at the trapped look on James's face that Sirius began to feel comfortable again.

"Can I sit?" Sirius looked up to find Maria standing over him with one of the girls he had been introduced to by the fire. He scooted over on the log to make room for her and she squeezed in next to him; her friend, who had curly reddish hair, moved over and started talking to Remus and Peter.

"Sorry about Liz," Maria said, her eyes focused on where Elizabeth still sat, keeping up an unbroken stream of prattle without pausing to take a breath. "She was really nervous about tonight, I think."

Sirius, momentarily distracted by the way her leg was pressed up against his on the log, just shrugged. "This is her house, then?"

Maria nodded and picked up a stick from the ground, which she started breaking apart nervously. "Yeah, she and Kate live here. Their parents are farmers…not like, cows or whatever…some sort of grain, or something. I don't know… Not that exciting, but my dad's an accountant, so who am I to judge?"

From the other side of him, Sirius could now hear Peter stuttering in conversation with the curly-haired girl and he fought not to laugh at the overall strangeness of this entire experience.

"Sirius, are you listening? Hello?"

"Oh, sorry," he said, turning back to Maria. "Er – what were you saying?"

She looked slightly annoyed that he was not enthralled by her presence, but when he smiled at her, he could see her blush even in the dim light. "That's okay. I asked what your parents do for work?"

He stared at her, thinking fast. She knew nothing about his family, had no preconceived notions about his last name, and he saw a wonderful freedom of opportunity before him.

"Oh, my parents are dead."

She gaped at him. "What?"

"Yeah," he lied easily. "Died right after I was born. I live with my uncle in London. He's a real good chap…works in the government – works with the Minister –"

"The Minister? Your uncle works with the _Prime Minister_?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Sure." Sirius shrugged, and then, inventing wildly, "He travels a lot though, so usually it's just me on my own when I'm not away at school. It's brilliant…I can eat what I want, leave when I want, see friends when I want, explore the city…"

"Wow," breathed Maria, as if Sirius had just told her he was heir to a throne. "You've certainly kept all that quiet."

He shrugged again as if this was of no real importance and looked around casually, surprised to see that James and Elizabeth were no longer seated near them.

"Hey, where'd they go?" he asked, nodding toward the empty chairs.

Maria looked around. "Don't know. I'm sure they'll be back."

Something was building in his chest now, and he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. There was a lingering, hollow anger in his stomach still from what they had overheard Mr. Bones saying about him, which was currently mingling with the sense of freedom that no one there – aside from James, Remus, and Peter, of course – knew anything about him, or, indeed, needed ever to even see him again. He knew what he had dared James to do, knew that James, like him, would never back down from a dare, knew that James was undoubtedly taking this opportunity to kiss Elizabeth, if for no other reason than to show Sirius he could. And suddenly, Sirius wanted to prove that he could, too.

"You want to show me around?" he said to Maria. "Maybe we'll run into James and Elizabeth."

"Okay," she said, nodding and grabbing one of those metal cylinder things – _electric torches_ , Remus had called them – from the ground as they stood up. Sirius shot Remus and Peter (both who seemed rather entranced by the curly-haired friend) a grin before following Maria back around the bonfire and toward the side of the house, where the music was slightly muffled and the light from the fire now only intermittent flickers on the dark ground.

Sirius stared with fascination when Maria flicked on the torch and he had to restrain himself to keep from asking how it worked. A straight, white beam of light extended from the tip of it, illuminating a small circle of grass in front of them; she pointed the light in his face and laughed when he winced against the brightness.

They walked around the perimeter of the house, Maria commenting on things here and there, but Sirius was solely focused on the task in front of him, unsure of how best to approach it. The times when he had kissed Gin, he had just gone for it, had not even thought about it beforehand. And the fact was, he knew Gin better than he knew Maria. Gin was not shy or nervous like Maria was, though, to be fair, Maria had certainly acted as though she fancied Sirius much more than Gin had ever let on.

They stopped around the far side of the house, next to an old wooden fence, and Maria was pointing something out in the distance, but Sirius was not listening. Sick of thinking about it, he took her hand and she cut off at once, looking at him expectantly, the torch now hanging by her side, illuminating their feet in the grass.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked bluntly, throwing caution to the wind.

She giggled and looked away and he waited for an answer, the heat rising in his face, already feeling the preemptive mortification of her denying him, but then she gave him a quick nod. Assuming this was as good of a yes as he was going to get from her, he stepped forward and pressed his lips against hers.

His first thought was that her lips were not as soft as Gin's, but perhaps that was because she was holding them together very tightly, her entire body tense and stock still. It took a few seconds, but eventually she started to loosen, to relax into him, even to go so far as to stick her tongue in his mouth. They stood there kissing for several minutes before she pulled away from him, looking at him in the darkness, an excited smile visible on her face.

"I really like you, Sirius," she said very fast in a breathless voice, as if she had been saving up all of her nerve to utter those five words.

"I like you too," he said, knowing that this was not entirely true, that he would be perfectly content if he never saw this girl again, but knowing instinctively that this was what you were supposed to say to a girl who had just put her tongue in your mouth.

Even in the darkness, he could see the gleam of her teeth as she gave him a huge smile before leaning in and kissing him again. No, he did not have any particularly strong feelings about her, but he also did not NOT like her, and it was thrilling, standing there kissing her in the darkness, thinking with a bitter pleasure that no one who knew his family would expect him to be kissing a Muggle – plus she was a very cute Muggle on top of that.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there together – time seemed to move in funny ways when you were snogging someone, after all – but eventually they made their way back to where their friends were still sitting on the outskirts of the ring of light cast by the roaring fire. James and Elizabeth had returned, James's hair somehow untidier than usual, and he gave Sirius a broad smirk and a thumb's up when Elizabeth wasn't looking, to which Sirius responded with a proud grin of his own. It was not long after this that they bade their goodbyes, ensuring the girls that they would do their very best to get to the lake the following day, though privately Sirius thought that he may have done enough swimming for the summer.

"So," said Sirius, once they had made their way down the long driveway and turned back onto the gravel covered street. "How was it?"

"Er," James said, clearly pondering the question. "Aggressive."

They all laughed, perhaps a bit louder than normal in their exuberance.

"How'd you do it?" Peter asked, seemingly fascinated.

James shrugged nonchalantly, though his gait was a bit bouncier than usual. "It wasn't very hard to be honest. She said she wanted to go get a drink and then she just kind of jumped on me."

"And you, Sirius?" Remus asked as they turned down the main road that led back to James's house. "You snogged that Maria girl, I'm assuming?"

Sirius gave them all a scandalized look. "Me? A Black? Snog a _Muggle?_ Really, Remus, what would people say?"

"That you're a git?" suggested James as they all laughed. "I dunno, mate, I think I prefer Hogwarts girls."

Their ribbing and laughter followed them up the dark street, all of them feeling very pleased with themselves in light of the night's events and their youthful rebellion, but none of them more so than Sirius. He would kiss all the Muggles he could get his lips on, he thought wryly, if it proved that Mr. Bones wrong about him.


	24. 3-3 or 'Want a Hug Now We're Reunited'

_A/N: Thank you, thank you for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 24 - 3.3 or "Want a Hug Now We're Reunited?"**

* * *

Lily had had a fantastic summer.

Away from Hogwarts, away from the lessons and drama and personal grudges, she and Severus had quickly become as close as they had ever been. Petunia, now fifteen, had gone away for much of the summer, visiting a friend in Wales, and in her absence, Severus had spent nearly every afternoon at the Evans' house, laughing and chatting and brainstorming ideas for new spells with Lily. It was easy to forget sometimes, when they were ensconced in the turmoil of Hogwarts, why their friendship worked, but their time together over the summer had reinvigorated her affection for him. When it was just the two of them, he was less confrontational, less snide, quicker to make a wry joke or to laugh at her pluck.

So when Lily passed through the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters on the first of September, she almost felt a certain mourning for the summer she was leaving behind. Almost.

Her parents, who had a long drive back to Cokeworth, dropped her off almost an hour before the train was set to depart, and the platform was nearly empty. It took her several minutes to drag her trunk onboard, and once she had maneuvered it into an empty compartment, she glanced at the clock visible on the platform and discovered that she still had forty-five minutes before the train would leave. She sat down in her compartment and tapped her wand impatiently against her leg, anxious to reunite with her friends and get back to Hogwarts; after only a few minutes, she popped right back up to her feet and left the compartment to wander the corridor of the train, just for something to occupy her time.

The car she was in was completely empty, so she navigated her way into the adjacent car, peering into the compartment windows as she passed. About halfway down the car, she found her passage blocked by Regulus Black, whom she recognized immediately as a slighter version of his brother, though he was somewhat less-handsome and his grey eyes lacked the warm laughter that she had come to identify with the elder Black. He was trying to maneuver his own trunk through a compartment door and appeared to have gotten it thoroughly stuck.

"Do you need a hand?" Lily asked warily. She had never spoken to Regulus before, but her experiences with the majority of his fellow Slytherins had not been positive ones, on the whole.

"Oh," he said, glancing at her before pushing his hair out of his eyes in a distracted sort of way. "Er, yeah…okay, if you don't mind."

Slightly surprised that he had taken her up on her offer, Lily leaned over and began tugging on the trunk alongside him. It did not budge.

"Wow," she said, standing up straight again and staring down at the offending trunk. "This is an impressive packing job. How did you even manage to get it lodged in there like that?"

"Talent, I guess," he said wryly, also staring at the wedged trunk.

Lily smirked and pointed her wand at it. _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_ she muttered, and the trunk dislodged at once and floated into the air, where she then directed it onto the luggage rack in the compartment.

"Still got it," she said, stowing her wand and turning back to Regulus proudly. "And I thought I might be rusty after two months of no magic."

"No magic?" he asked, looking at her curiously before realization crossed his face. "Oh wait, I know you…you're that Gryffindor in my brother's year. Mudblood. Evans, isn't it?"

He was not sneering at her like the others who called her Mudblood, but she scowled at him nonetheless. "I might be Muggle-born, but which one of us thought to use magic on that trunk, and which one of us would have still been stuck here pushing and grunting at it like a troll if I hadn't shown up?"

He did not say anything, but his cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You're welcome, by the way," she snapped, pushing past him and into the next train car. She had not missed being called a Mudblood for the past two months.

A few more students were milling about the platform now, calling out greetings to their friends and hugging their parents goodbye, and Lily watched them as she navigated the train. She stopped and said hello to Elliott Stebbins, a curly-haired Hufflepuff in her year whom she liked very much, and to Susanna O'Shea, the Gryffindor Seeker, who smiled brightly at her and asked about her summer. In the very last compartment of the very last train car, she found Sirius Black sitting with a Gryffindor she had never spoken to before, a strikingly pretty fifth year called Didina Murphy.

"Evans!" greeted Sirius cheerfully when Lily appeared in the doorway. "Good to see you. How was your summer?"

Something about Sirius seemed different to Lily; his hair was longer and falling into his eyes more than usual, his skin had the unmistakable pigment of someone who had recently spent a good deal of time in the sun, and he was taller and somehow seemed more confident than normal. But the thing that struck her was that he was wearing Muggle clothes. She had never seen him in anything other than wizard's robes.

"Great," she said, glancing curiously at Didina. "And yours?"

"Excellent. I spent most of it at James's house. We had a blast."

"I can imagine," Lily replied. "And is the house still standing?"

"Barely." He grinned and then glanced at Didina before turning back to Lily. "Hey, Evans, since you're here, you can help with an argument Murphy and I have been having."

"Can I?" Lily asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Murphy here insists that she and her friends sit in this compartment every train ride. But I know for a fact that my mates and I have sat in this compartment for the last three journeys. Neither of us wants to give it up."

Lily snorted. "That's quite a dilemma."

Didina tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at Sirius, who simply smirked and propped his feet up on the seat in front of him.

"If you don't get out of here in the next two minutes, Black, I will hex that smirk right off your face," she said, though her threatening tone was betrayed by the fact that the corners of her lips were twitching.

Sirius grinned even wider and did not take his eyes off of Didina even as he spoke to Lily. "See what I'm dealing with, Evans? I even tried to compromise – said I'd be perfectly willing to share the compartment with her and her mates for the ride, just out of the goodness of my heart."

"I'd say it's a lost cause," Lily told Didina. "If I were you, I'd get the farthest compartment away from here that you can find. You think he's annoying now? Just wait until Potter shows up and the annoyance factor multiplies ten-fold."

Didina laughed and Sirius said, "Ouch, don't hold back on my account, Evans."

"Do I ever?"

"Glad to see that you missed me this summer. Want a hug now we're reunited?" he asked her, holding his arms out as if expecting her to hug him and grinning devilishly at her.

She snorted again and turned on her heel, ready to be away from him. "Good luck, Didina," she said. "See you later, Black."

His response – cheeky as it undoubtedly was – was muffled by the compartment door, which snapped closed behind her. Shaking her head, she made her way back up the corridor and into the next train car. She stopped and chatted with a smattering of other students as she wandered back through the train and she was in high spirits by the time she returned to her own car, where she noticed a very familiar figure walking ahead of her, a curtain of black hair obscuring his face.

Lily hurried up behind him and got very close before saying loudly, "Hi, stranger!"

Severus visibly jumped and turned to look at her, a wide smile breaking across his face. "Hi," he said, his eyes poring over her as if he hadn't seen her in months when, in fact, they had said goodbye only the previous afternoon. "Your journey okay, then?"

"Oh, it was fine, I got here a while ago. I have a compartment up here, come on."

She led him to her compartment, where they stowed his trunk and sat down across from one another. They chatted idly for a while, watching the platform outside their window fill up as more and more students appeared through the barrier, Lily commenting on who had grown over the summer or had gotten a new hairstyle, Severus uttering quiet, noncommittal replies. About ten minutes before the train was set to depart, Lily glanced up and saw Gin Leigh and Ev Linney walking past their compartment and she jumped up to slide the door open at once.

"Lily!" Ev said, throwing her arms around her in excitement. "How are you?"

"Great," said Lily, smiling at them both, thrilled to be among so many people she liked once again. "You need a place to sit? You can sit with us, if you'd like."

"Okay, thanks," said Gin. Both girls settled themselves into the compartment and smiled hesitantly at Severus, who immediately tensed and drew himself closer to the window. Lily frowned at him but did not dwell on it.

"Tell us about Portugal, Ev," said Lily, who knew Ev's family had gone on holiday to southern Portugal for much of the summer.

"Oh, it was wonderful," Ev sighed nostalgically. "We were a few days in Lisbon visiting my parents' friends, and then we went south and spent every day on the beach and it was hot, but not too hot, you know?"

"I can tell," Lily said. "You're so tan, you look great!"

Ev beamed at her. "Thanks! I didn't want to leave, it was so beautiful there."

The compartment door banged open and Adin clambered in, followed closely by her sister Kaia. There was quite a bit of excited squealing and hugs as they all said hello, Severus sitting forgotten in the corner. They had barely sat down and gotten comfortable when Adin looked around, seemingly unable to contain her excitement any longer.

"Danny kissed me!"

Severus made a small noise in his throat that no one except Lily seemed to notice, but when she looked at him, he was staring resolutely out the window.

"Really?" asked Lily, who had heard a lot about the Muggle boy who lived down the street from Adin. "When?"

"Yesterday," said Adin, who seemed beside herself with happiness. "We were saying goodbye for the term in the back garden and he kissed me!"

"You would have thought she had been kissed by the bloody King of England, the way she was going on about it last night," said Kaia. "I told her I was going to tell Dad if she didn't shut up about it."

"You're just jealous," said Adin dreamily.

"He's a Muggle, right?" asked Ev.

"Yes," Adin said. "A gorgeous Muggle."

"Are you going to write him, then? How does that work?"

Adin nodded. "I've thought it all through. You can send Muggle post from Hogsmeade, and since we _finally_ get to go to Hogsmeade this year, I can send him letters and vice versa." She paused and then seemed to remember something. "Oh, and speaking of gorgeous, Kaia and I just ran into Sirius near the back of the train…he's in Muggle clothes and holy Merlin he is looking good."

Lily laughed at Adin's audacity, but her laughter died when Severus stood abruptly.

"I think that's my cue to leave," he muttered dryly, pushing past the girls and sliding open the compartment door. "I'll see you later, Lily."

"Okay," she said, not blaming him for wanting to get away from this conversation. "I'll come find you later, yeah?"

He gave a curt nod and disappeared into the corridor, right as the train gave a great lurch and started to move. Lily did not feel bad about Severus. They had spent every day together for two months; she wanted to use the train ride to catch up with her other friends.

"What about you, Gin? How was your holiday?" she asked Gin, who had remained her normal quiet self throughout the conversation.

"Yeah," said Adin cheerfully. "Kiss any Muggles?"

Gin smiled and shook her head. "No kissing, Adin, sorry to disappoint. It was pretty boring, actually. Helped my mum in her shop. She has a new boyfriend – Rolf is his name. He's a bit of an idiot, to be honest, but nice enough."

"It seems like your mum has a new bloke every time I talk to you," said Ev.

"Tell me about it," Gin tucked her long hair behind her ear. "They only ever tend to last a few months, though."

"You got your ears pierced!" squealed Kaia, moving in closer to get a better look at the small sparkling studs that glimmered on Gin's earlobes.

"Oh yeah," said Gin awkwardly as the other girls oohed and aahed over the earrings. "My mum did it for me at the beginning of the summer…said it would make my ears look more dainty."

"Your mum is so cool," said Ev.

"Yeah, our parents said we can't get our ears pierced until we're of age!" said Adin, as if this were a national tragedy.

"They look really good, Gin. Very…er…dainty."

Gin gave Lily a half smile, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. "Thanks."

Talk of their summers continued into the afternoon and it was only after the lunch trolley had come and gone and the train had moved into the wild countryside that the conversation slowed. After lunch, Kaia bid them farewell and left in search of some of her second-year friends. Various students stuck their heads into the compartment to say hello throughout the day and late in the afternoon, a sixth-year Hufflepuff with a prefect badge gleaming on her chest came by to say hi to Ev.

"That's my cousin, Gwynne," Ev explained, once the girl had disappeared back down the corridor. "Her family was in Portugal with mine this summer and I think she finally realized I'm not an annoying eight-year-old anymore."

"Wasn't she dating Newlyn Gallit for a while last year?" Adin asked, always ready for new gossip.

"For a bit," Ev said, "but then she caught him snogging Fiona Beal behind the greenhouses and chucked him."

"Ew, what a jerk," said Adin, pulling a face.

"Oh but that reminds me," said Ev, sitting up excitedly. "Gwynne was telling me about this potion called the Babbling Beverage, have you heard of it?"

"The one that makes you say nonsense?" Lily asked.

"Yes, apparently it's become very trendy among the older Hufflepuffs. You can modify it, see? Add more belladonna or something – I'm rubbish at Potions, can't quite remember – and then it's a real laugh to take, or so Gwynne says."

"What's it do?" Gin asked, turning her attention from the countryside that had been flashing past the window.

"Makes you chatty. Lowers your inhibitions. She said some of the fourth years were taking it before dates last year, to lessen the nerves. Anyway, I was thinking of trying to get my hands on some, just for fun."

"Lily could brew some," said Adin. "She's brilliant at Potions."

"It's not dangerous, then, Ev?" Lily asked, her interest piqued more by the thought of modifying a standard potion instead of actually taking it. She had not done much experimenting for anything other than Slughorn's class before.

Ev shook her head. "Not according to Gwynne, and she's a prefect. I'll find out more about the ingredients, if you want. It's exciting, though, isn't it? I bet nobody else in our year has tried it…feels a bit rebellious."

Lily laughed. "Since when has any of us ever been rebellious?"

Adin grinned at her, her dark eyes sparkling. "Seems as good a time to start as any!"

And as the train rolled on toward Hogwarts, Lily laughing and joking with her friends, all thoughts of end of summer sadness was left far behind.

* * *

The first night back at Hogwarts was rather uneventful for Remus; indeed, the mere fact that Sirius hadn't lost his temper and punched any walls had made the evening significantly less memorable than the previous year. Their first lesson of the term would be Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw third years were queued outside the classroom, awaiting the arrival of the new professor whom Dumbledore had introduced at the feast the previous night.

"Well, the bright side is that she can't be worse than Philpott," Remus said to his friends, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder as they waited.

James was leaning against the corridor wall, a dreamy look of reminiscence on his face. "Yeah, I'm really going to miss messing with old Philpott though."

"Agreed," said Sirius. "It's not every day we get to torment a professor like that."

"Ah well," James said, "there's always Snivellus."

"And Filch…"

"And the rest of the Slytherins…"

"Yes," said Sirius, "I think we'll have plenty of ways to stay busy this year."

"What do you reckon?" James lowered his voice to a whisper. "Back to the fourth floor tonight to resume our Transfiguration homework?"

The boys had decided to start referring to the Animagi project as "Transfiguration homework" whenever they were around other people. Remus thought this was, all in all, a good idea, though if anyone had overheard them at this point, the fact that they had not even had a Transfiguration lesson yet would have made it a little suspicious.

"Good idea," whispered Peter, looking excited. "I really think I'm getting close to connecting with…well, whatever we're supposed to be connecting with."

Remus glanced at Sirius and was unsurprised to see him looking annoyed by the fact that Peter was making more progress than he himself was.

"Okay, we'll get back to it tonight," Sirius agreed, before turning his eyes toward the cluster of Gryffindor girls who were standing on the other side of the corridor. "But we still have to figure out how to get into the girls' dormitory, James."

"Are you still on about that?" Remus asked.

Sirius looked greatly offended by the suggestion that he may have given up on the idea. _"Am I still on about that?"_ he scoffed. _"_ Really, Remus. There has to be a way around that staircase issue, and we're going to figure out what it is."

"You think you're cleverer than the founders, do you?" said Remus, who had absolutely no interest in sneaking up to the girls' dormitory and could not understand why Sirius wouldn't let the idea drop.

"My being cleverer than the founders is beside the point," said Sirius smugly, to which James laughed. "The point is, they had to make some way to get by that staircase thing. What if there was an emergency up there? What if Dumbledore had to get up there for some reason?"

"Well I imagine that Dumbledore _might_ know some magic that you don't, Sirius," said Remus.

"We'll do it soon. We'll skip dinner and try to get up there then," James told Sirius, who looked somewhat appeased. "Best not do it when anyone else is in Gryffindor Tower."

Remus sighed, resigned to the fact that once the pair of them had their minds set on something, there was absolutely no getting them to change course. Determined not to waste his breath arguing any further, he looked around the corridor at his classmates. A few Ravenclaw girls kept sneaking glances at the four of them and giggling – Remus tried not to stare.

The chatter in the corridor died immediately when the new professor appeared, smiling at them and opening the classroom door to allow them all entrance. Remus followed James, Peter, and Sirius to their standard seats in the back, feeling oddly excited for some reason at the prospect of a new professor; as he had told his friends, she could not possibly be any worse than Philpott. Everyone settled into their desks and watched the professor, who smiled cheerfully at them all and hopped up to sit on top of her own desk at the front of the room.

"Hello and welcome!" Her voice was high-pitched and held a quiver of excitement. "My name is Laurel Romielle and I'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the year."

Professor Romielle was younger than any other teacher Remus had ever seen – by the looks of her, she couldn't be older than twenty-five. She had a pleasant, moon-shaped face with warm brown eyes and honey-colored hair that fell to her shoulders. The way that she was perched on top of her desk, her legs swinging backward and forward happily, reminded Remus of when his mother would place him on the kitchen worktop when he was young and he would watch her as she cooked, eagerly awaiting the chance to lick the pudding spoon.

"I'm very excited to be here," Professor Romielle told them, her eyes flickering to each of them in turn. "I've looked over the notes my predecessors have made and was surprised to see how little practical Defense you have been taught over the past two years. I believe this is one of the reasons that Professor Dumbledore reached out to the Auror office this summer looking for a suitable candidate to fill this position."

"You're an Auror?" Goomer asked from the front of the room.

Professor Romielle did not look remotely annoyed at having been interrupted; in fact, she smiled brightly, as if nothing made her happier than telling people she was an Auror.

"I am. I finished my training about three years ago. As I was saying, Dumbledore came to the Auror office when Professor Philpott resigned, looking for a trained Auror who would be willing to take on this position. I agreed to the job in a temporary fashion, so I'm only signed on for the school year, but my plan is to teach you as much as I can before I return to my standard position at the Ministry."

There was a bit of shuffling and murmuring as the students now gazed at their teacher with newfound respect. Excitement fluttered through Remus; he had never met an Auror before and now they would be trained by one for the entire year. Professor Romielle paused for a few moments, allowing them all time to settle down before continuing, her legs still swinging backward and forward from her perch on the desk.

"Please," she said, "don't be shy. If you have questions, you are welcome to ask them. If not, we will get started on the lesson."

James, who was looking curiously at Romielle as if trying to size her up, raised his hand. "Why would you want to give up being an Auror to come teach at Hogwarts? Seems like a bit of a letdown to me."

"Well, I haven't given up being an Auror, nor will I ever. As I said, this is a temporary position for me, and I will still be working for the Ministry in the evenings and on the weekends." She paused, as if contemplating her situation. "Professor Dumbledore thinks – and I strongly agree – that these days, having students properly trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts is extremely important, and who better to train you than someone who has recently finished years of strenuous Ministry training herself? I am very honored to be here, to have been awarded this responsibility. I look forward to getting to know you all and to helping you become better witches and wizards this year."

Remus glanced around at his classmates. Everyone seemed much more interested and impressed than usual.

"If there are no other questions –" Romielle paused and looked around expectantly to see if anyone's hand went up before continuing "– then we shall get started. The first part of the year will be dedicated solely to defensive spells. Shields, counterjinxes, and the like. Now, if you please, stand up from your desks and split into pairs."

There was a lot of loud scraping and clambering as the students did what they were told. Romielle hopped off of her desk and waved her wand to make the students' desks push themselves against the outer edge of the room, leaving a large open area in the middle in which they could practice. She moved to stand in the center of it and began pacing back and forth as she talked to them all.

"We will be starting with the most basic of Shield Charms – _Protego_. Protego has many uses, the most common of which is to simply block standard spells and jinxes that are cast at you. As we master this function, then we will move on to learning about its variations and how Shield Charms can be cast to protect others as well, to create magical barriers, and to enchant specific areas or objects for extended periods of time."

It was the most exciting Defense class that any of them had ever experienced. Predictably, James and Sirius, who were partnered together, were the first to successfully cast the spell, and Professor Romielle – looking extremely impressed – awarded them each five points for Gryffindor. To his utter shock, Remus followed shortly thereafter, the charm working to completely block the sparks that Peter had shot at him so that they disintegrated into thin air.

"Excellent," said Romielle, walking over to where Remus stood and smiling warmly at him. "Very strong work indeed, Mr…"

"Lupin," Remus answered, feeling proud.

Romielle's smile wavered slightly for a moment, but the next second it was right back in place. Remus felt his stomach drop a little, understanding that she had recognized his name; no doubt, Dumbledore had already made her aware of his condition. He broke her gaze and stared at the floor.

"Nicely done, Mr. Lupin," she said softly. "Five points to Gryffindor."

By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, Remus, Sirius, James, and a couple of overachieving Ravenclaws were the only students to have successfully cast the spell. Unable to forget the brief, faltering way the professor had looked at him, though, Remus followed his friends to Transfiguration with an uneasy wriggling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Sirius received a shock the next morning at breakfast. He had just started digging into his eggs when loud rustling and screeching alerted the Great Hall to the arrival of the morning post. Having only ever received one letter during his entire tenure at Hogwarts – a Howler from his mother in first year – Sirius did not even look up until a brown barn owl landed in front of him, its large wing knocking over his juice.

James moved to save his own juice from the same fate. "Who's it from?"

Curious, Sirius untied the letter from the owl's leg and tore it open at once. The handwriting was small and slanted. His eyes flashed to the signature at the bottom of the parchment.

"It's from my cousin Andromeda," he said, interest extremely piqued. He had not spoken to her since she had left Hogwarts, and the last he had heard, she had run off with a Muggle-born the previous year. He began reading.

 _"Sirius,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. I regret that we have lost touch since I left Hogwarts and, if you are amenable, I would like to try to remedy that. I'm sure you have heard that I have married a Muggle-born called Ted Tonks – no doubt, your mother had a similar reaction to my own mother at the news. Almost a year later, and my ears are still ringing from the shrieking._

 _Conscious of the fact that any post sent to you at Grimmauld Place may fall into Aunt Walburga's hands, I have waited until your return to Hogwarts before bestowing my news upon you. Last month, I gave birth to a baby girl, who we've named Nymphadora. I've enclosed a photo, if you're interested. She is a sweet baby, and we've realized in recent weeks that she is a Metamorphmagus. It came as quite a shock when one night she went to sleep with dark brown hair, and when I got her from her cot the next morning (_ early _the next morning, let me tell you), she was suddenly a ginger. I've no idea where she got the trait from – Ted certainly has no family history of Metamorphmagi, and I've never heard of any Blacks who've had that trait either, have you? It seems completely random._

 _Nymphadora's birth made me realize how isolated I have become now that I'm no longer an accepted member of the Black family, and has reaffirmed my desire to solidify the few familial relationships that are not lost to me. It was a lonely realization, to only have Uncle Alphard to confide my happy news in. You were always my favorite cousin and I believe, out of everyone else in the family, that you and Alphard are the only ones who would not wish me pain, dismemberment, or death solely due to the person I fell in love with._

 _Please write back if you're feeling up to it. If not, if I am out of line in reaching out, then good luck to you, Sirius._

 _Andromeda"_

From behind the letter, Sirius pulled a photograph of a very small baby with curly blonde hair, who was blinking up at him with big eyes. He looked up at his friends, who were all watching him curiously.

"Andromeda's had a baby," he said, holding up the photograph for them to see and then starting to laugh loudly.

"What's so funny about that?" asked Peter.

"She doesn't want the family to know, but they'll find out soon enough, I reckon, and my mother's going to go absolutely _insane_ …I love it," Sirius said between chuckles, happily scanning over the letter again. A strange, joyful feeling was overtaking him at the thought of a family member who wanted to associate with him. Of course he had known that Andromeda had run off with a Muggle-born and had been blasted off the family tree as a result, but he had never fully processed the repercussions of it. He was no longer the sole Black outcast and she, undoubtedly, was even more of an outcast than him. He handed the letter to James to read and turned back to his eggs.

"Nymphadora? Blimey, not giving the kid much of a chance, are they?" James asked after a few moments of his eyes zooming back and forth over the page. "So are you going to write her back?"

"Of course. Have to congratulate her on further infuriating my mother and aunt." He paused. "Oh, and for having a baby too, I guess."

Sirius's thoughts remained on Andromeda through the rest of breakfast. He, Peter, and James had their first Muggle Studies class that morning, so they bade Remus (who was taking Arithmancy) goodbye and made their way up to the fifth-floor classroom, which was covered in bright photographs of Muggle contraptions, including one that Sirius now recognized as a Muggle torch.

The class, which was taught by a round, middle-aged witch called Professor Lumpkin, was less exciting than most in that there was no practical magic for them to perform, but it was still quite interesting. It was a small class – other than Sirius, Peter, and James, the only other Gryffindors taking it were Raeanne and Goomer. There were a handful of Hufflepuffs and only two Ravenclaws, who were looking hesitant, as if their time could be better used somewhere else. Thankfully, and unsurprisingly, there were no Slytherins. Professor Lumpkin was very cheerful and spent the lesson giving them an overview of something called _electricity_ , which seemed very complex to Sirius, though it at least explained somewhat how those torches worked.

Sirius wrote a brief but congratulatory reply to Andromeda during break that afternoon, telling her that he wished her well and hoped they could keep in touch. If nothing else, he was excited by the prospect of receiving post from time to time. After dinner that evening, he asked James if he could borrow Ari and started the trek up to the Owlery to send his letter.

He had just passed the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor when he spotted Gin Leigh walking ahead of him, her long blonde curls giving her away even at a distance. He hurried to catch up to her.

"Hi," he said, falling into step next to her and noticing that she had only a small paperback book in her hand.

She looked up in surprise. "Hello."

Of course, she said nothing else to further the conversation, so he held up his letter for her to see. "Going up to the Owlery before curfew. You?"

She pulled a folded letter from the pages of her book and showed it to him. "Yep, me too."

Why this excited him, he could not say. "You bring a book with you, even to the Owlery."

She shrugged and tucked the letter back into the safety of the book. "I was in the library reading."

"For _fun?"_ he said, trying not to look at her too much as they turned a corner into a narrower, more dimly-lit corridor that would lead them to the west side of the castle. A brief smile was her only response, so Sirius asked, "Who are you writing to?"

"My mum."

"Already? But we've only been here two days!"

She glanced at him, as if unsure whether he was making fun of her or not. "I write to my mum every few days and vice versa."

"Do you really?" Sirius asked, amazed.

Gin nodded, and he thought for a second that she again would have no other response, but then she added, "I tell her everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

A few bubbly-looking Hufflepuff second years walked past them in the other direction, stealing glances at Sirius, who smirked at them. Once they passed, he glanced at Gin again, but she seemed not to have noticed the brief interchange.

"So did you tell your mum about the time you attacked me in the Hogwarts kitchens?" Sirius asked, suddenly desperate to get a reaction out of her.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I attacked you? Interesting memory you've got."

They turned right at the end of the corridor, next to a statue of Lachlan the Lanky, and began climbing the long stone staircase that coiled up the West Tower to the Owlery.

"I remember you inviting yourself along when I went to the kitchens to nick some food after the Quidditch Final last year –"

"I offered to help."

"– and then while we were waiting for Queenie the house elf to bring us the eclairs, you just jumped on me."

"If you say so," she said, infuriatingly unfazed. Considering this was not how it had happened – he had most certainly been the instigator in the kitchens – he had been hoping for a less reserved response. He sped up to get in front of her and then began climbing the stairs backward, a step ahead of her, smirking down at her.

"I do say so. I also say you can't seem to resist me."

"Is that right?"

"Well, you keep finding me conveniently alone in random spots round the castle – the library, the kitchens, hidden staircases, the Owlery…"

This made her stop her ascent, gazing up at him with her head tilted slightly to the side. He, too, paused his backward climb, standing two steps above her.

"You're right," she said coolly. "Actually, I have a map of the castle back in my trunk and it tells me where you are at all times, with a little dot that moves about and is labeled 'Sirius Black.' And I check it every day, just hoping that I can find you alone in some secluded corner of the school."

Sirius grinned at her sarcasm, eyes dancing. He had far too much fun teasing her. "There it is. Knew we'd get there eventually."

She sighed and walked past him, evidently annoyed at herself for sinking to his level. "Can I just send my letter in peace?"

He hurried to catch up to her, once again matching her stride as she climbed the stairs. "So what'd you write to your mum?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she looked at him out of the side of her eye. "Why?"

"Just wondering. I've never written a letter to my mum, you know. Curious as to what someone might say."

Gin shrugged and pushed open the door that led to the Owlery, which was shadowy in the fading light, the stone floor covered in owl droppings and the skeletons of small creatures. "I told her about the first few days…about the new class I had today – Care of Magical Creatures – and about Professor Romielle, and how she seems pretty good."

Sirius stood watching her as she called down one of the school owls and began tying her letter to its outstretched leg.

"Yeah," he said, completely forgetting about his own letter and leaning against the stone Owlery wall in a casual manner. "She does seem pretty good. Who would have thought we'd get an Auror teaching us this year? Polar opposite from Philpott…"

She did not look at him, but kept her eyes focused on her fingers, which were struggling to undo a wayward knot in the twine she was using. "I think it's brilliant. I'd like to be an Auror one day."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at her, despite the fact that she was still not paying him any attention. "Really? An Auror?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I'd have guessed you wanted to be a professional reader."

"Is that a thing?"

He shrugged. "Isn't it really difficult to become an Auror?"

Her fingers seemed to finally find their way through the knot, and she glanced up at him before she finished tying the letter to the owl, a slight crease between her eyebrows.

"I'd still like to try."

She finished with her letter and the owl had soared off through one of the tall, glassless windows before she turned and looked at him again.

"Weren't you going to send your letter as well?"

"Oh yeah," he said, feeling slightly preoccupied. He walked around the circular room, peering up into the rafters for Ari, feeling her eyes on the back of his neck. It took him less time than it had taken her to tie his letter to Ari's leg and send the owl on its way, but he was heartened by the fact that she had stood there, patiently waiting for him, when she easily could have left him there alone.

"Are you ready to go, then?" she asked.

She was standing near the entrance to the room, one arm hanging loosely at her side, with the other holding her book against her stomach, a look of frustrating indifference on her face. From across the airy room he looked at her and decided, suddenly and with no conscious thought, that he wanted to fluster her, wanted to make her blush at him like those Hufflepuffs had, like Maria the Muggle had. He walked toward her purposefully and she did not move or look away.

He stopped right in front of her, his eyes flickering involuntarily to her lips, thinking that he would like to kiss her again, then and there. She seemed to know what he was thinking and took a step back, toward the door to the staircase.

"I'm not kissing you right now, Sirius," she said calmly.

He felt a flutter of disappointment and embarrassment at his own transparency, but pushed it away and shot her a half-grin. "Why not?"

She gave him a look that he could not decipher. "Because we're surrounded by straw and owl droppings and rodent skeletons."

Whatever he had been expecting, this had not been it. He laughed and looked around the floor, realizing that she was exactly right. He had not considered that the ambiance might be a factor in wanting to kiss someone or not. To his disappointment, when he looked up again, she was walking out of the room and starting back down the staircase. He followed behind her, wanting to stop her, to keep this conversation going, wanting to figure out just how to push her buttons…

"I snogged a Muggle this summer," he said boldly.

She was a few steps ahead of him so he could not see her face and only watched the back of her head for some sort of reaction. He did not get one.

"Did you?" she asked in an unfazed tone.

"Yep," he said, hurrying to catch up to her so he could see her face.

"That seems to be going around," she said lightly.

He stared at her. "What? Who else do you know who snogged a Muggle this summer?"

She smiled slightly. "That's none of your business." After pausing for a moment, she gave him a quick glance. "So how was it?"

"Good," he said, still frustrated by her coolness. "Not as good as you."

She stopped walking, three steps from the bottom of the staircase, and he was energized by finally getting a reaction out of her. He stopped next to her and she surveyed him, the small smile still tugging at her lips.

"Do you like me, Sirius?"

"No," he said quickly. "Why? Do you like me?"

"No."

"Well, good then."

And then she leaned in and kissed him, a very quick, very unexpected peck on the lips. He was so shocked that he did not try for a more proper kiss – or, indeed, move at all – and by the time he had found his legs again, she had already finished her descent of the staircase and disappeared up the corridor. Once again, he hurried to catch up.

"So what was that for?"

She shrugged. "Who were you writing to?"

"What?"

"Your letter. I was just wondering who you were writing to. I told you about mine, after all."

"Oh," he said, thoroughly discombobulated, having forgotten entirely about his letter. "I was writing to my cousin Andromeda. She's had a baby."

"I thought you didn't get on with your cousins?"

He was still trying to wrap his head around the quick kiss she had just given him and he had to struggle to keep up with the normal conversation. "Andromeda's the only cousin I like. She ran off and married a Muggle-born last year. Big scandal…she was disowned immediately."

Gin frowned, her eyes straight ahead of her. "She was disowned for marrying a Muggle-born?"

"That's my family for you."

"Well that's good of you to write to her. I can't imagine not being welcome with my own family."

"You get used to it," said Sirius wryly.

"Are they really that horrible?"

He didn't know when the conversation had turned serious and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to continue down this road with her right then.

"Yes, but I'll survive," he said lightly. She seemed to pick up on the dismissal of conversation and did not press him further.

A loud crash and cackling from ahead of them made them both start.

"Peeves," Sirius muttered, recognizing the gleeful laughter at once. He glanced around, noting their location, and grabbed Gin's hand, pulling her across the corridor. Ignoring her mumbled questioning, he tapped the base of a suit of armor with the toe of his shoe, and the armor sprang out of the way at once, revealing a secret passageway behind it. Sirius pulled her in and then dropped her hand. "Come on, we'll go round by Flitwick's office and then cut back up."

She stared at him as they walked through the narrow corridor, the burning torches every few feet giving it an eerie, orange, flickering glow. "How did you know this was here?"

He shrugged. "James and I found it last year."

She glanced around, seemingly impressed, and he tried not to grin.

"Do the two of you know every secret passageway in the school?" she asked, after a few moments of silence.

"No, but the plan is to get there eventually."

"How do you find them?"

"It takes courage," he said with mock seriousness. "And genius. And exceptional magical skill."

She snorted but did not respond. They had reached the end of the passageway, and he pushed open the wall at the end and motioned for her to climb through ahead of him. Emerging into the more brightly lit corridor, he saw her looking around as if trying to determine where they were. They turned left and started walking again, side by side.

"So this Muggle girl…" she started, looking straight ahead of her, and Sirius felt a thrill of excitement that she was still thinking about him kissing someone else.

"What about her?"

"I can't imagine your family would be too pleased, then, to know you were kissing Muggles?"

"Well that's true," he said, as they turned down the Fat Lady's corridor. "Just an added bonus, I guess."

She gave him a brief, appraising look, but did not say anything else. He watched her, as she murmured the password to the Fat Lady and climbed through the portrait hole, and something wriggled uncomfortably in his stomach, something that felt separate from the excitement that had been there since he had spotted her in the corridor, and he continued watching her in the common room that evening until she disappeared up the dormitory staircase, her hair swinging behind her, never once glancing back at Sirius.


	25. 3-4 or 'It's Not as if I Fancy Evans'

_A/N: Quick warning - There's some discussion on rather mature topics at one point in this chapter. Nothing explicit, but if you're uncomfortable with 13/14 year olds talking about sex, this is not the chapter for you._

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its characters are owned by J.K. Rowling. I own nothing._

* * *

 **Chapter 25 - 3.4 or "It's Not as if I** ** _Fancy_** **Evans"**

* * *

He was sitting once more in the dazzling forest, the bird chorus resounding in his ears, the warm beams of sunlight welcome on his back, his human self laughing and splashing in the lake in front of him…

Sirius was right – the house elves had really outdone themselves with that trifle at dinner earlier. He could almost still taste the homemade raspberry jam on his tongue. Maybe when they were finished here, they could sneak down to the kitchens, see if Queenie had saved any of the leftovers for them to take back to Gryffindor Tower…

 _Focus_ , James told himself, wrenching his thoughts back to the forest.

There were his parents lying across the lakeshore, his mother lying with her head on his father's stomach, and they looked so blissful, so utterly content, and he watched them for a while, absorbing the peace that was emanating from them…

He really needed to get back on his broom to perfect some of those dodges he had been working on over the summer. Fiona had hinted at practice the previous night that he may take lead Chaser in the first match if they could get a handle on the defensive formations. Later in the week, he should hang back after practice and try them out…

 _Bugger. Focus!_ He scolded himself again and shifted his position slightly on the squishy pillow, aligning his back more firmly against the fourth-floor passageway wall. This was no good. He cracked open an eye to see how his friends were faring. Remus was lying on his stomach in the corner, deeply engrossed in a book that was open on the floor directly under his nose. Sirius sat across from James, eyes shut, a frustrated crease across his brow. Peter was sitting next to Sirius, cross-legged with his hands on his knees and his eyes closed gently, as if he had just drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He was floating about six inches off the ground.

"Peter!" James shouted, before he could stop himself. Remus sat up immediately and Sirius's eyes snapped open at once.

"Holy shit," Sirius muttered. Peter had not reacted to James's shout whatsoever and still remained hovering eerily off the ground, as if being levitated in some sort of trance.

"Do you think he's done it then?" James whispered as they all moved closer to Peter, eyeing him warily. "Has he connected?"

Remus hurried to his bag and began digging through it. He pulled out the dog-eared copy of _Animated Animagi_ as James and Sirius remained frozen, kneeling in front of Peter, their mouths agape.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," murmured Remus, pointing his wand at the book and then flipping it open, swiping through the pages until he found the correct one.

"What does it say?" Sirius asked after Remus had scanned over it, his eyes flashing back and forth at lightning speed.

"When a true connection is reached, the Connector will become fully entranced within the Form-state and, thus, will disconnect entirely from the physical world."

"Well," said James, gazing in awe at the seemingly invisible barrier that separated Peter's body from the ground, "he's not touching the floor. Do you think that's what it means?"

"Must be," said Remus, frowning down at the pages of the book. "What else would be making this happen?"

They all stared at their friend for a minute or two in silence before any of them spoke again.

"Er, does the book mention how long he's going to be like this for?" James asked.

But Remus didn't have time to answer. The next second, Peter's eyes snapped open and he fell to the ground with a thump, a loud gasp issuing from his mouth. The other three converged on him at once.

"Peter!"

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Did you do it? Did you connect?"

"Whoa," Peter said, his breath coming heavy. " _Whoa_."

They all stared at him intently, waiting for him to say more. He seemed to be in shock – he was blinking very fast and breathing in great heaves. It took him several moments to regain his bearings, and he looked into each one of their astonished faces before speaking, his eyes wide, his voice a triumphant waver.

"I did it! I did it!"

"What happened?" urged James. "What was it like?"

Peter looked beside himself with nervous energy; indeed, he looked happier than James had ever seen him. "It was like all the other times when I've come close. I focused in really hard on that sense of peace, like I told you before…on that moment after I had taken the potion when I finally felt…calm. And then I felt the whoosh in my stomach, but this time, it didn't scare me or distract me. I kind of leaned into the feeling. And then it was like I was back there, in my trance or whatever it was. And everything felt…light." He paused and beamed up at his friends. "I did it! I was the first one to do it!"

James stared at Peter as Remus continued questioning him, an odd sense of annoyance nagging at him. Out of the three of them, no one ever would have supposed that Peter would be more adept at this process than him or Sirius. He, James, was the best out of all of them at Transfiguration, shouldn't he have been the first one to take this vital step? But no…Transfiguration prowess played no part in this particular portion – in fact, magical skill really was not a factor at all here. Peter was simply the best at controlling his mind. How could James be annoyed at him for that? As his friend, he should be thrilled with Peter's accomplishment, should be looking to him for inspiration, for guidance, even. He would not allow his frustration with his own stinted progress to mar this for Peter.

"That's brilliant, Peter," said James, stifling any negative emotions and smiling genuinely at his friend. "You'll have to give Sirius and me some pointers before we have another go."

Peter beamed at the two of them. James chanced a glance at Sirius, who was wearing a very forced smile, as if his jaw were glued shut and he was trying to rend it apart.

"Well," said Remus, who also seemed to notice Sirius's expression and wanted to diffuse a potential situation, "that's probably enough for one night. Let's get out of here. We need to get back and do our actual Transfiguration homework anyway."

Sirius did not speak for the entire trek back to the common room, and when James, Peter, and Remus sat down at their usual table in the corner and began pulling out their textbooks and parchment, Sirius did not sit down with them.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered.

"But what about your essay?" Remus asked. "It's due tomorrow!"

Sirius just shrugged. "I'll scratch it down during break. I'm not in the mood tonight."

And with that, he disappeared up the boys' staircase. James stared after him for a moment before making up his mind, slamming his book shut, and following behind him. When he entered the dormitory moments later, Sirius was bent over, digging through his trunk.

"Sirius," James said, sitting down on Sirius's bed and frowning at the top of his head, which was the only part of him that James could see at the moment, "I know you're angry, but…"

"I'm not angry," Sirius snapped, looking up at him. Then he stood up straight and kicked his trunk. Hard.

James stared at him for a second in shock and then snorted in laughter. "Yes, clearly. You're just bursting with merriment at the moment. Not angry at all."

"What's Peter got that I don't? Why can he figure this out but you and I can't?"

Despite the bitter tone, James was at least relieved to note that Sirius wasn't yelling, for once.

"The ability to control his temper?" he suggested lightly.

Sirius did not look amused. Sighing loudly, he walked around the bed and sat down next to James.

"I mean, did you ever expect this? That Peter would be able to do it before us?"

"It's not like Peter's transforming, though. This is just one part of it. You know he's not going to be able to do all those spells and everything that comes next without us."

Sirius nodded and then flopped back on the bed, his legs hanging off the side next to where James sat. "It's just taking so _bloody long_. Every month that goes by when Remus has got to go off on his own…"

"I know," said James, because he did know. He knew exactly how Sirius felt every month when Remus would make the long walk to the Hogsmeade house with only Madam Pomfrey by his side, knowing that there would be no friends waiting to help him through the night.

"What if we can't do it?" Sirius said in a tone that James had never heard him use before, a tone laced with uncertainty and self-doubt. It fell unfamiliar on his ears, like a well-known song played out of tune.

"We can," James said, swallowing hard. And then, more resolutely, he added, "We will. Even if it takes years…it's not like Remus's condition is going away. Even if we don't manage it until we're thirty, then we'll be able to help him then."

They sat in silence for a minute, each lost in his own thoughts, Sirius staring up at the canopy above them and James looking across the room at nothing in particular.

Suddenly, Sirius started laughing.

"What's so funny?" James asked, turning to look at where his friend was lying, still staring up into the canopy but now with a dark amusement in his eyes.

"I was just imagining Peter transforming without us…turning into a ferret or something and not being able to turn back."

"You're such a bastard," James said, twisting so he could kick Sirius's leg, but laughing despite himself.

"Or a hamster. What if Peter's a hamster?" Sirius laughed. "What if you and I are a lion and a tiger or something and Peter is a hamster?"

James felt guilty for finding it so funny, but the two of them sniggered heartily, and there was nothing that felt as right or as healing as the pair of them laughing together.

"We need to mess with Snivelly," said James, after they had both settled down. "Merlin, it's been too long, he may get a complex, think we've forgotten him."

"Agreed," said Sirius, swinging around so that his head was now on his pillow and his feet were in James's lap. "And for the love of Merlin, we _need_ to get into the girls' dormitory."

James pushed Sirius's feet off of him, so that the latter hung awkwardly off the bed, looking ready to slide off at any moment. "Tomorrow during dinner. And we can start looking into Disillusionment Charms tomorrow too, for that idea that we talked about a few weeks ago."

"Excellent," said Sirius, now swinging his feet back up onto the mattress and giving James a hard shove with them, so that James went flying off the bed and landed in a heap on the floor. James straightened his glasses, frowned up at Sirius who was now spread-eagle on the bed, gave a loud war cry, and lunged at his friend. A muffled "oomph" issued from Sirius when James hit him, and the pair rolled off the bed and onto the stone floor, where they proceeded to thrash around and wrestle with abandon, each trying to pin the other underneath him. As Sirius had the distinct size advantage – and despite the edge James held in the feistiness category – it did not take long before James found himself lying on his back with Sirius sitting on his chest.

"Ugh, geroff me you prat," James said, trying in vain to throw Sirius off of him.

"Say the magic words," said Sirius, smirking down at his friend, slightly out of breath from their wrestling match.

"You need to cut back on the pudding at dinner. I think you're crushing my lung."

"Those aren't the magic words. The magic words are, 'I solemnly swear…that Sirius Black is the most cleverest and sexiest wizard to ever step through the Hogwarts doors and I am inferior to him in every way.'"

James tried to snort, but in his current state, it came out as more of a wheezy cough. Hearing a noise from somewhere on his left, he looked over to see Remus standing in the doorway of the dormitory, surveying the scene with a look of cautious amusement on his face.

"I don't even want to know," Remus said, shaking his head and averting his gaze as he went to search through a pile of books on top of his trunk.

"Moony!" James gasped. "Can I get a hand here or what?"

"Say it, Potter," jeered Sirius, bobbing up and down a bit so that James was pushed more painfully into the stone floor. "Say the magic words."

"I solemnly swear…that Sirius Black…is the biggest bloody tosser in the school and I can't believe I ever allow myself to be seen with the smug prick in public."

Sirius let out a breath of a laugh and James took the opportunity to push him off with an almighty heave, rolling away from him and landing a kick somewhere in Sirius's gut. They both sat on the floor – James panting in exaggerated gasps and Sirius rubbing his stomach with a scowl.

"I thought you were going to bed?" Remus said, evidently unable to bite his tongue and looking at the pair of them as if mildly entertained.

"I was. But then James tackled me and the idiot never remembers that I kick his arse every time, so I had to remind him."

"Thanks for the help, by the way, Remus," James said, standing up and slowly approaching Remus, a familiar devilish glint in his eye. "My rib could have snapped and punctured my lung and I could have been dying over there right before your eyes and you were too busy looking for your book to help a mate out."

Remus edged backward toward the door when he noticed Sirius moving toward him as well. "I'm no fool. I'm not getting between the two of you…don't…oh blimey, OI!"

James and Sirius had tackled him at the same time and the three of them hit the floor in a flailing pile of limbs and laughter.

* * *

The following night was no less frustrating.

They had tried everything. Covered in the Invisibility Cloak while the rest of the Gryffindors were at dinner, James and Sirius had tried everything they could think of to get up the girls' staircase. They had tried skipping every other stair, skipping every third stair, shimmying up the side with their faces pressed against the stone wall. They had tried levitating themselves. They had brought out their wands and poked at random stairs or stones, muttering various passwords that they had found useful in their explorations of other parts of the castle, to no avail. Every time they would get up to the fifth step, the entire staircase would turn into a giant stone slide, and their progress would be thwarted. They had even brought out James's Cleansweep and had attempted to fly up the passageway, but above the fifth step, the air solidified around them and chucked them back down again, where they landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, groaning and muttering obscenities.

And so, in a last ditch effort, they now found themselves sitting on James's broomstick together, hovering just outside of the girls' dormitory window and peering in longingly.

Sirius pointed his wand at the window, his other hand gripping the back of James's shirt rather tightly. " _Alohomora!_ " Nothing. " _Bombarda!_ " Still nothing. " _Pateficium!_ " The window remained firmly in place. "Sod it."

"Any other ideas?" James asked, peering into the window with great interest.

Sirius frowned and tucked his wand back into his pocket. "Nothing that we're going to suss out sitting out here on a broomstick."

"Hey, I think that's Evans' bed," said James, pointing to the bed closest to the window they were hovering in front of. Sirius ducked his head for a closer look. It looked like the other beds in the room, though it was less tidily tucked in, and there was what appeared to be an old, well-loved, stuffed unicorn sitting near the pillow.

"What makes you think that?"

"There's a potion brewing underneath it, can you see? Who else would be mad enough to brew a potion under their bed?"

"Need I remind you of the times when we've brewed illegal potions underneath our beds?"

"Only once, and we were thick little firsties at the time, weren't we? Now we know there's loads better places to brew potions in the castle." James ducked his head even more and turned the broomstick slightly. "I wonder whose bed that one is?"

"The one with all the Arrows posters?"

"Eurgh, yeah. Which one of those girls supports the bloody _Arrows_?"

"Well it's not Evans and it's not Gin. She told me she doesn't even follow Quidditch."

"You would know," snorted James.

Sirius shrugged and pulled on the back of James's robes. "Take us back, will you? This isn't particularly cozy, out here like this…"

"Yeah, all right," James said, pulling on the broomstick handle and flying them back around the other side of the tower, toward their own dormitory window.

"Wait, hold up for a second," said Sirius, tugging at the back of James's robes as they neared the dormitory window so that James pulled up on the broomstick, slowing. "Look there."

Following the direction of Sirius's finger, James peered up at where a sizable ledge sat just above the illuminated boys' window.

He did not need to ask what Sirius was thinking. In all of their explorations of the castle, they had never considered exploring the castle walls from the outside, nor the roofs of any dormitories. "Let's check it out."

Guiding the broomstick with his fingertips, they glided vertically past the open, brightly lit window and landed gently on the hard stone. The ledge was sizable enough for them both to explore easily without fear of plummeting hundreds of feet to their deaths; indeed, it was a similar size to one of their four-poster beds, made of a solid slab of grey stone, and adorned with two simple gargoyles on either side, both of which turned their heads inward to look at the boys dubiously when they landed. They both inspected the space closely, and then Sirius sat down, dangled his legs off the front of the stone and gazed out over the castle grounds.

"Huh." He sounded perplexedly appeased, as if the discovery of this strange ledge had answered some unasked question that James had not been privy to.

James hung back, leaning against the tower wall, the Cleansweep warm in his hand. "I like it," he said to the back of Sirius's head, which nodded its agreement.

"Not a bad view either," said Sirius idly, and anyone with eyeballs would have agreed with him. The moon was a sliver in the inky twilight, but the lights from the castle windows illuminated the grounds in long, torch-lit flickers. The sun had just recently disappeared behind the mountains in the distance, which now glowed a deep purple in its absence. It was extremely peaceful and surprisingly quiet, their not-inadequate altitude helping to smother the usual sounds of the forest below.

"What do you reckon Evans is up to with that potion?" James asked after a moment. Lily Evans was clever and too cheeky for her own good, but she didn't strike him as the illicit-potion-making sort. James doubted she had been awarded a single detention since starting at Hogwarts.

"Search me. Probably extra credit for old Sluggy or something."

James, though, was not convinced. There were spare dungeons to be used for studying Potions – if this were something by-the-books, she would not have needed to brew it under her bed. He mused on this silently for a minute, part of him wondering why he cared enough to be curious.

"I'd say we're buggered, mate," said Sirius.

James glanced up at the back of his friend's head. "What?"

"About the staircase."

"Oh." James flipped his broomstick up and began pulling at a few stray twigs from the tail, frowning down at it in concentration as if trying to solve a particularly stubborn puzzle. "We've been trying to get around the enchantment…" he faded off, deep in thought.

"Yeah, so?"

"What if we need to figure out how to _undo_ the enchantment, not get around it?"

Sirius turned to look at him in the almost darkness. "Maybe…it'll probably take loads of research though. We might need Moony's help for that one…"

"But you know he flat-out refused…"

"The useless lump…"

"We can convince him," said James. "Tell him we're reading up on these things for _educational_ purposes, you know…"

They faded into silence once more, and it was only after the deep purple had darkened into a velvety black that James spoke again. "We should head in."

"What's the hurry?" asked Sirius, but he stood up from his perch nonetheless. James could only see his dark outline moving toward him.

"Well…I was thinking about starting on that Defense essay that's due next week…" There was a moment's pause before they both busted out laughing at the idea. "No, I was actually fancying a trip to the kitchens and then maybe working on that Disillusionment Charm for Snivelly."

And still sniggering at the ludicrous idea of working on an assignment that wasn't due for another week, the two of them flew back through the dormitory window, stowed the Cleansweep, and started toward the kitchens.

* * *

"Remind me again why you made Peter and me come here with the two of you?"

" _Because_ Moony," came Sirius's disembodied voice from somewhere to the left of James, "it'd look awfully suspicious for James to be hanging round the library seemingly alone."

"Yes, suspicious and terrible for my reputation," added James.

Remus huffed and folded his arms over his chest, but said nothing. The four boys were grouped together in the stacks of the Hogwarts library, peering through the shelves at a table where Severus Snape and Lily Evans sat across from one another, their heads bowed as they scribbled on separate rolls of parchment, silent and diligent in their studies. It had taken almost an entire week, but James and Sirius had finally mastered the Disillusionment Charm – at least to the extent to which they would need it for their prank on Snape. Now, Sirius was hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak and James could hear him bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxious to get started.

"Oh, you know, while we're down here," Remus began, as if suddenly distracted by the thousands of books surrounding them, "I need to look into a volume for Arithmancy…excuse me…" He wandered off, not meeting any of their gazes.

Sirius made an annoyed noise low in his throat and James knew he was rolling his eyes. "He's no fun."

"Well at least we have Peter here," whispered James, clapping Peter on the shoulder and turning back to appraise Snape and Lily once more.

"You should get a move on, though," said Peter. "Curfew's in a half hour…they'll be leaving soon."

"You ready, Sirius?"

"Ready as a crup in heat, let's go."

Grimacing at that mental image, James stepped around the shelf with Peter behind him and approached the study table. Neither Snape nor Lily seemed to even notice him until he had pulled the spare heavy wooden chair out from next to Lily and plopped down in it; as there were no other chairs at the table, Peter lurked awkwardly behind. Both of the table's occupants looked up at James in shock, but Snape's face turned into a snarl almost immediately and he bared his teeth slightly when he recognized who had joined them, his hand inching toward his wand. James ignored him.

"Potter," Lily said, surprise etched on her face. "What are you…"

"Hey Evans," James said, reaching over and sliding the parchment she had been writing on toward him so that he could read it. "Wha'cha working on?"

From the corner of his eye, James could see Snape's bag – which was lying on the ground next to its owner's chair – start to unzip very slowly. As both Snape and Lily were fixated on James, though, neither of them seemed to notice.

Lily reached out, stabbed her parchment with one forceful index finger, and slid it back away from James. "My Defense essay. What do you want?"

"Oh nothing," said James lightly, smirking at the fury on Snape's face. "Just felt like saying hello, didn't want to be rude, you know. That Defense essay's only supposed to be a foot long, though. Why do you have nearly an entire roll written?"

Lily's green eyes flickered up to Peter and then back to James, clearly confused as to what had prompted their presence at her table. "Some of us like to go above and beyond, Potter, not that you'd know anything about that."

James leaned back in the wooden chair and crossed his arms, grinning at her and doing his best not to look at Snape's bag, where he could see subtle movements taking place in his periphery. "Why would I need to go above and beyond in Defense? I was popping up Shields weeks ago…Romielle loves me."

"Yes," countered Lily, an annoyed look on her face. "I seem to recall you placing a Shield Charm around a Slytherin first year who was trying to get to the loo the other day…"

From behind them, Peter sniggered and Lily sent him a blistering glare that silenced him at once.

"I hope you don't think it was _my_ fault the ickle firstie wet himself, Evans?"

"Flitwick certainly thought so. Didn't he give you a week's worth of detentions for that little stunt?"

"Ah, good old Filly…he's quick with the detention trigger, that one. It's one of his only flaws." James now turned to Snape, who had been watching the exchange incredulously, resentment growing more and more pronounced on his pale face. "Something bothering you, Snivellus?"

"What do you _want_ , Potter?" he snarled, his voice low.

The bag beside Snape's chair was fully open now, and a few of the books inside of it were shifting seemingly of their own accord. James had to keep both Snape and Lily distracted.

"What do I want?" he echoed, his tone wistful and mocking. "What do _I want_? Hm, let's see…for the Wasps to win the league this year…for you to learn how to use shampoo, Snivelly…" Snape bristled and gripped his wand tightly, but James turned to look back at Lily. "…for Evans here to tell me what illegal potion she's been brewing under her bed."

Lily, who had seemingly been readying herself to stop a fight between the two wizards, gaped at him and James could tell that she was momentarily stunned by his knowledge of the potion.

"What are you talking about?"

"The potion that you've been brewing under your bed," James repeated, still determinedly averting his gaze from the bag on the ground. "Thick, purple-colored substance? Nice little pewter cauldron? Ring any bells? Now what kind of potion would a girl like Lily Evans be hiding under her bed, hmm?"

"I have no idea what you're on about," snapped Lily, though the color had risen to her cheeks and her eyes flicked nervously to where Snape sat rigid across from them.

"It's a cute unicorn," James pressed, extremely entertained by both of the reactions he was receiving. "The stuffed toy, I mean. Very… _sweet_."

Snape was now visibly trembling in fury, James noted happily. He had never before considered that the best way to mess with Snape was to mess with Lily, and all sorts of exciting and vaguely ruthless ideas were forming in his mind.

"You've been in _her room_?" Snape all but whispered, his voice wavering in vehemence.

Lily, though her face was still flushed, sounded positively calm compared to Snape. "How did you get in my dormitory, Potter?"

"Oh Evans, you don't really believe that I'd give up my secrets, do you?"

"Get out of here," Snape snarled.

James smirked at him and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "But Evans hasn't told me what the potion is yet. Unless you want to tell me, Snivelly? I'm sure _you_ know all about it, eh? The two of you are such good…Potions partners."

"Let's go, Sev," Lily said brusquely, snapping shut the Defense book that had been lying open on the table in front of her. Snape, too, began collecting his things from the table and James chanced a glance at the bag, which was still halfway open, the zipper that had been quietly closing it froze in its endeavor as Snape reached down to grab it without looking…

"Oi!" said James desperately, and both Snape and Lily looked up at his exclamation. "Who are you going to Hogsmeade with, Evans?"

Lily froze halfway through rolling up her parchment. "What?"

If he had been remotely sincere about this, he wouldn't have had the nerve, but seeing Snape's reaction to the idea of James having been in the girls' dormitory had crystallized something in James's mind, and he pressed on. "The Hogsmeade trip at the end of the month. Who are you going with?"

"Well, my mates, I suppose. Adin and Mary and…"

"You should go with me," James said casually, noting that the zipper on Snape's bag was now fully closed and breathing a small sigh of relief.

Snape's eye was twitching and James fought not to laugh. "Leave her alone, Potter."

"And why in the world would I want to go with you?" Lily snapped, ignoring Snape, her eyes locked on James.

"Because I'm quite a catch, obviously Evans."

He felt a nudge against the back of his shoulder and knew that Sirius was finished with the delivery and ready to get out of there, but Lily's eyes were narrowed at him and Snape was breathing fire, and it was too much fun to just up and leave.

"Is that what Black tells you when you two are alone together?" asked Lily coolly.

James grinned at the gibe and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Peter, who had been standing behind him, all but forgotten.

"We should get going, James," Peter said pointedly, and James knew that Sirius had given him a nudge as well.

"Wait a minute…" Snape said, his furious eyes now narrowed in suspicion and darting between James and Peter. "Where _is_ your boyfriend, anyway, Potter? Or have you chucked Black and taken up with Pettigrew here instead?"

"Sirius?" asked James, examining one of this fingernails with with feigned innocence. "Oh, he's probably off snogging some girl in a broom cupboard…that's right, he mentioned something about your mother, Snivellus…or maybe that was yesterday, I can't quite remember…"

This earned him a very hard poke in the back of the head from the invisible Sirius and James once again had to suppress his laughter.

"Shut your filthy mouth about my mother," snarled Snape, getting to his feet.

James, too, stood, though he did not mirror Snape's fight-ready posture and instead put his hands casually in his pockets and leaned his hip against the table, smirking down at Lily.

"So what do you say, Evans? Hogsmeade?"

Remus appeared, clutching a worn Arithmancy book, and frowning at the scene before him, at Snape's trembling fury, Lily's embarrassed anger, and James's calm smirk. The librarian, Madam Pince, was weaving her way between the tables toward them, finally noticing the disturbance they were causing, her annoyance evident.

"Let's get going, James," Remus said, pulling on James's sleeve.

Lily also stood up and now had a look of indignant disgust on her red face, as her eyes traveled between James and Snape. "You're despicable," she said to the former.

"If you say so," said James, shrugging casually and starting to walk away. "But at least I don't smell like I've bathed in a sewer, right Snivellus? What _is_ that smell, anyway?"

Laughing lightly, James left the library with Remus, Peter, and the still-invisible Sirius, leaving the furious and humiliated pair behind. And though Lily and Severus had both noticed the unfortunate odor that now surrounded them, neither of them acknowledged it, nor did either of them know it emanated from the disillusioned Dungbomb that was now adhered to the bottom of the inside of Snape's bag by way of Permanent Sticking Charm.

* * *

"Snape's mother?"

"Yes, well…"

" _Snape's mother?_ "

"I knew it'd rile him up…"

" _Snape's mother?_ Merlin, I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."

"Now you're admitting to dreaming about Snape's mother?"

Sirius shivered. "I'm scarred for life, I'll have you know. I can only take solace in the fact that you were promptly rejected by Lily Evans."

"I can't believe you did that," Peter chimed in. "You realize you just _asked Lily Evans on a date_."

James was unconcerned. "It's not like I _wanted_ to go to Hogsmeade with her."

"Sure you didn't."

"I just did it to get under Snape's skin."

"Sure you did."

"It's not as if I _fancy_ Evans."

"Sure you don't."

"I mean, what is she doing hanging round Snape, anyway? Obviously she doesn't have much taste."

"So it's a good thing that you _don't fancy her_ then, hmm?"

"Oh, go snog Snape's mother, you idiot."

* * *

It was quite possible that Ginuine Leigh had made a huge mistake.

She didn't know what had come over her. She was a private person by nature, had always held very little interest in idle chitchat, had always been guarded in what she said and to whom, not because she had anything to hide, but because she just did not see the point in spilling her guts to other people. And, yet, here she was, on a crisp Sunday afternoon in the middle of October, sitting in the grass by the lake with five other third-year girls, taking a swig of the much ballyhooed Babbling Beverage.

Lily had spent the last few weeks brewing it in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, the bubbling purple potion drawing Gin's eyes when she climbed into bed at night, or when she got out of the shower, or when she was trying to read up on the proper way to cast a Shield Charm. Ev, who had somehow gulled the correct variations on the potion out of the older Hufflepuffs, had assured them all that there was nothing remotely dangerous about taking it. When Gin still expressed her hesitation, Ev guaranteed that they would have full control of their faculties and what they did or did not say.

And so here she sat, surrounded by Lily, Adin, and Ev as well as two of Ev's best Hufflepuff friends, Karina Cotswold and Nancy Robards. This was Ev's idea, after all, and despite Lily acting as the brew-master and the cauldron having lived in the Gryffindor dormitory, they had all agreed that if Ev wanted to let her other friends in on it, that was her prerogative. To nobody's surprise, Adin was holding court. Seeing as Adin seldom stopped talking in the first place, the potion didn't seem to have had that much effect on her normal demeanor, though she was being a bit more detailed in her descriptions than usual, explaining just how exactly the Muggle boy had kissed her over the summer.

"…I mean, we were in his garden, right, and his parents were home…so he kissed me, and then he kind of pulled back and looked about – not like he was embarrassed, but just making sure no one was watching – and then he pulled me round to the side of the house, where nobody would be able to see, and then…"

Gin scooted back against the roots of the willow tree they were sitting near, trying to inconspicuously distance herself from where the other girls were strewn by the water, and attempted to tune Adin out. The branches of the willow hung low, a few almost brushing the grass, and part of Gin hoped that maybe the others would just forget that she had joined them in this rather half-hearted display of rebellion. She peered between the branches and out over the water. There were ripples toward the middle of the lake, small bullseyes made by jumping fish, extending out to the shoreline where they petered out uneventfully, and Gin watched the water's edge lap negligibly against the dark sand, inches away from the shiny tips of Adin's boots. She wondered fugaciously what Adin would do if the water crested the patent leather, sullying the pristine gleam, but then her thoughts turned back to her current situation and she breathed it in alongside the crisp fall air, alternately content and rueful.

The swig of Babbling Beverage she had taken was rolling warmly in her stomach and, despite her misgivings, she found herself comfortable with the lightness it had induced. She had to keep reminding herself that she was among friends. Talking to them, baring something of herself…it was not to be dreaded. She liked these girls, after all.

But she would not tell them about Sirius.

She would not tell them about the note he had slipped her a few days prior, telling her to meet him behind greenhouse three after lessons, where they had kissed each other hungrily before going up to dinner and not looking at each other for the rest of the evening. She would not tell them how much she enjoyed kissing Sirius, that it made her feel proud and like she was getting away with something to explore his lips with her own even though she did not fancy him, not really…not like everyone else seemed to, at least. There was no doubt that the girls spread around her would not understand her perplexing sentiments toward Sirius Black, when every other female was so enamored of him. Gin was sure that even Lily, who was one of the few who seemed resistant to Sirius's charm, would not understand their unusual pairing, their ability to claw at each other and then to promptly ignore one another. And to be frank, not even a swig of Babbling Beverage gave Gin any inclination to try to explain it to anyone.

So, loose-lipped via potion or not, Ginuine Leigh would not tell anyone about kissing Sirius Black.

After a few minutes, Lily, who seemed also to have grown a bit bored with Adin's rambling, scooted back away from the group and leaned against the tree as well, her shoulder brushing Gin's.

"Even with a Babbling Beverage, you're still about as talkative as the giant squid," she said, nudging Gin jovially.

"Sometimes it's hard to get a word in edgewise with Adin nearby."

"You're telling me!" Lily laughed and then paused before saying, "It feels good, right? This potion? Is it wrong of me to think that?"

"No, I agree. I feel different than I thought I would though. I just feel more…relaxed, I guess."

Lily looked shiftily at her. "It's not as strong as the Hufflepuffs make it," she said, glancing at the group of chattering girls around them and keeping her voice low. "I didn't put in quite as much belladonna…I don't know…it made me nervous or something."

Gin shrugged at her, unfazed. In actuality, this was a bit of a relief against the nagging worry that she would slip up and mention something she would regret. "I won't tell. And they won't notice, I'm sure." She nodded toward the others. Adin, Karina, and Nancy had scooted closer together, their voices drifting up toward the willow tree in excited fragments; Ev, though, was moving toward Gin and Lily.

"What are you two talking about up here?" she asked, sitting down and crossing her legs against one of the gnarled roots.

"Nothing exciting," Gin replied. And then before she could stop herself, "just wanted to get away from the talk about Adin's boyfriend's lips."

"You know the sad thing is, I've already heard all about Danny's lips, even before Adin took a swig of the potion," said Lily, giggling.

"Ah well, Adin doesn't have much of a filter, that's why we love her," laughed Ev.

"She can keep a secret though, if you really want her to," said Lily, a bit of a waver to her voice. Both Gin and Ev stared at her waiting for the other shoe to drop. And drop it did. "James Potter asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him." Lily muttered this as though it caused her physical pain.

 _"What?"_

"You kept that quiet," said Gin, watching Lily closely. She had always suspected that Lily liked James Potter more than she ever let on.

"I only told Adin and made her swear not to tell anybody. I'm surprised it hasn't killed her."

"So what did you say?"

"I said no. It was foul, the way he was acting," Lily said, picking idly at the grass next to her. "He didn't mean it, and it was obvious. It was just a laugh to him, a way to pick at Severus."

"But still," said Ev, her eyes wide and excited, "it's _James Potter_. Even James Potter wouldn't put himself out there like that just to mess with Snape."

Lily frowned at her. "Yes he would. That's probably the only reason he would put himself out there like that. He didn't want to take me to Hogsmeade, and I'd rather go with Peeves than go with him."

"I thought you liked him?" asked Gin without thinking. She grimaced. Maybe the potion was affecting her more than she had thought.

Lily blushed but did not seem annoyed by the question. "For a bit, I guess, but that was before he became an insufferable prat."

Ev pulled the ribbon loose from her hair and then pulled it back to retie it, trying to corral her tresses in the wind. "There's nothing wrong with fancying James Potter, everyone does. I doubt there's a girl below fourth year who doesn't fancy James or Sirius. Or both, more likely."

"That's not true," said Gin, guiltily averting her thoughts from the memory of Sirius's lips on hers. "I don't fancy either of them."

"Yes well," said Ev, securing her hair and grinning at Gin, "that's because you're a robot. Or a seventy-year-old witch trapped in a third year's body."

Gin pulled a face at Ev and turned back to Lily, who was still looking troubled. "So what did you say to him, Lily?"

"I told him he's disgusting, which he is. I mean, he's always been a bit of a git, he's always been full of himself, but it's like over the summer his head inflated to twice its normal size."

"Are there any girls our age going with boys to Hogsmeade next week?" Gin asked Ev, who would undoubtedly know this sort of gossip.

Ev didn't disappoint. "Emily Cagle was asked by Dominick Brown, that fourth-year Ravenclaw, and I think Cassandra Nguyen turned down Damon Laslow but that's all I know."

"You'd better be careful, Lily, or Laslow will be asking after you next," said Gin, nudging Lily with her elbow, remembering how Laslow had pestered Lily to be his girlfriend during first year.

Lily groaned and tapped the back of her head against the trunk of the tree a few times in apparent frustration. "Why do I only attract the prats?"

Ev's laugh at this was a bit heartier than the comment deserved, and Gin was starting to suspect that one of the effects of the potion was to make everything seem vaguely more amusing than it normally would. "James Potter is not a prat. He's probably the most popular boy in school!"

Lily, too, appeared more amused by this than it warranted. "Well then I don't much agree with the tastes of the school, do I?"

There was a great shriek of laughter from the girls by the water and they all turned to see both Adin and Karina giggling uncontrollably, while Nancy frowned at them, apparently put out by something.

"Oi, Nance!" Ev called over to the others, all of whom started and turned to look at her expectantly. "You putting on a comedy routine, or what?"

Nancy stood up from her spot in the grass and ducked under the branches toward them. She was tall, even taller than Gin, with dark skin and warm eyes that seemed at once both embarrassed and irritated by whatever had transpired by the water. She sat down on a flat rock near Ev, closely followed by Adin and Karina, now recovered from their bouts of laughter but still flushed and giggly.

"They're taking the mickey just because I'm not as pervy as they are," Nancy explained, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes when Adin and Karina started sniggering again.

"It's not pervy to know that you can't get pregnant just from sucking a boy off," said Karina.

Gin snorted, Lily coughed, and Ev dissolved into giggles as well.

"Well how do you know?" asked Nancy.

Karina raised her eyebrows at the other girl, her face alight with laughter. "How do I know where babies come from? Because I'm not six, Nance. You have to, like, _shag_ a boy to get pregnant."

"That's not what Bertha said last year," Nancy mumbled.

"Bertha Jorkins is daft as a dugbog. Unless she's talking about who's been mucking around with who on top of the Astronomy Tower, you shouldn't listen to a word she says."

"Doesn't your mum tell you about things like this?" Gin asked, surprising herself.

Nancy looked at her, horrified. "My mum? Talk to me about…" she paused and lowered her voice to a whisper, " _blowies_?"

All six girls burst into giggles. Gin was the first to recover. "Not about _that_. But about, you know, sex and stuff?"

"No! Oh Merlin, and I hope she never does."

Karina nudged her shoulder. "Sounds like you might need that talk."

"Well who told you about all of it, then, since your mum isn't even around?" Nancy asked her, a bit of a bite to her voice.

"Nancy!" scolded Ev, but Karina didn't seem troubled by the question.

"My aunt," Karina said importantly. "She sat me down and told me about sex years ago."

Gin watched Karina curiously, surprised by the news that her mother was out of the picture. She didn't know very much about Karina Cotswold, had only spent scattered afternoons with her while hanging around with Ev, and had never taken much of a liking to the girl. Harsher than most of the other Hufflepuffs, Karina had dark hair, pale skin, very red lips and had always vaguely reminded Gin of a vampire. But as she was a mate of Ev's, and Ev was one of the closest friends Gin had at Hogwarts, she had always kept her opinion of Karina Cotswold to herself.

"My mum too," said Lily. "The summer before I came to Hogwarts, she tried to tell me all about that stuff. Except she kept talking about a flower and a watering can. It was awful."

"I asked my mum once what sex was," Ev chirped, her face red. "She told me not to use foul language like that."

Adin laughed. "Well I wonder what she would say if she heard Karina here talking about sucking a boy off."

"Are you _sure_ you can't get pregnant from that?" asked Nancy.

"You can't," Gin assured her. "Only from sex. And there's a potion to keep that from happening if you don't want it to."

"And a charm, right?" said Adin, inching closer to the center of the group.

Gin shrugged, feeling unreasonably comfortable with the conversation. She never talked this much in a group, but they were all looking at her expectantly, like she was some sort of authority on the topic. "My mum said the boy has to do the charm though, and you shouldn't ever trust that he's doing it right. So it's better for the girl to take the potion."

"Your mum tells you stuff like that?" asked Lily.

"Yes." And then before she could stop herself, before she could even consider what was coming out of her mouth, "Because I was an accident, she wasn't married to my dad. I was a mistake."

A beat of silence followed her confession, during which her heart started rapping rather uncomfortably against her ribcage and she stared out over the lake, avoiding her friends' gazes, suddenly regretful. Why had she ever agreed to try this stupid potion? She knew, _she knew_ , she would say something she would regret, she had just not expected it to be that. The quiet only lasted a second or two, though, before Adin erupted into laughter.

Gin turned to look at her, shocked. "Is there something funny about that?"

Evidently attempting to get her laughter under control under the incredulous stares of the others, Adin composed herself and grinned sheepishly at Gin.

"Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you Gin, or at what you said."

"You weren't?" Gin asked, disbelieving.

"No, I wasn't. I just, I don't know, I thought it was funny because I've shared a dormitory with you for more than two years and you barely ever say _anything_ about yourself, and then you finally do tell us something about you, and it's _that_ , and it just struck me as funny, not what you said, just that you said it at all."

Lily started giggling too. "It's kind of true," she told Gin. "You barely ever tell us anything about you."

"That's not true!"

"Oh come on, Gin," teased Ev. "Of course it's true!"

She felt the words on her tongue before she had even thought about them. "Well what do you want to know?"

Adin and Lily exchanged a surprised look.

"All right," said Adin at once. "Who do you fancy?"

"What?"

"Who do you fancy?" she urged.

"Er, I don't know," said Gin, thoroughly caught off guard. "Do I have to fancy somebody?"

"Everybody fancies somebody," said Ev, before adding with a grin, "Unless you're a robot, of course."

Gin hesitated, knowing she had brought this on herself, knowing she had to give them an answer to, at the very least, deter more questions. "Well…then Barrett Merriweather, I guess."

"That Gryffy fifth year?" Ev asked. "Oh yeah, he's rather good looking, isn't he?"

"Well I obviously think so," laughed Gin.

"He got a month's worth of detentions last year when Professor Kettleburn caught him shagging Didina Murphy under the Quidditch stands," said Karina.

Lily's eyes grew very wide. "Shagging?"

"That's what Bertha said. But Didina's a complete slag, everyone knows that."

Nancy frowned at her friend. "Don't be rude."

Karina raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Not being rude, just being honest. Didina Murphy's the biggest slag in the school, at least since Bayle Kamana left."

"Well what about Barrett, then?" Lily said, defensive. "Wouldn't he be a slag too?"

Karina shook her head and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. "No, boys can't be slags. Only girls."

"I disagree." There was a trace of steel in Lily's voice. "And I don't think you should talk about Didina like that. What's she ever done to you?"

"She's never done anything to me personally, but she's _done_ plenty with half the boys at Hogwarts."

Lily was getting a dangerous look in her eye, and Gin leaned back away from the group, the warm contentedness from the potion beginning to seep slowly away from her. It was wearing off, and a cursory glance around told her that the other girls could feel it too.

"Hey, what's everyone wearing to Hogsmeade next week?" Adin asked, clearly trying to change the subject to head off Lily's argument.

Lily frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, but said nothing as talk turned to the Hogsmeade trip, and who would be donning their robes and who was venturing out in Muggle attire. Gin listened half-heartedly, her interest starting to ebb as quickly as the effects of the potion had as she watched a group of boys lazily toss a Quaffle to one another on the opposite shore of the lake. After a while, Lily's shoulder pressed into hers and she looked up at the other girl, curious.

"I forgot to tell you something," Lily whispered, as the rest of the group continued arguing the virtues of jeans versus robes. "Well, warn you really. I think James Potter's been in our dormitory."

"What? How?"

"No idea. I told Adin – and we should let Mary and Raeanne know as well – but we might want to look into putting up wards or something. If Potter's been in there, you know Black's been in there, and God only knows what they were up to."

"How do you think they got up the staircase?"

"It's Potter and Black. How do they manage half the stuff they get up to?"

"I can't say I've given it much thought."

Lily had an unusual expression on her face – defiant or determined, or perhaps a bit of both. "We can get up their staircase, you know."

"Yeah." Gin paused. "Why would you want to?"

Lily crossed her arms and stared out over the water, her mind clearly working. "Maybe…" she said, as if to herself. "Maybe it's time those boys get what's coming to them…"

Slightly unsettled by this idea, Gin shrugged and looked out over the water once again, not wanting to get back into another discussion that ventured too closely to Sirius. She had succeeded, she thought, in avoiding the topic as much as possible during this foray into the Babbling Beverage. And it had been nice, actually, talking to these girls, telling them something about herself.

Perhaps it hadn't been a huge mistake after all.


	26. 3-5 or 'The House'

_A/N: Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! Now onto some Remus-y goodness. I hope you love this chapter as much as I do._

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter is most certainly owned by Jo Rowling and not by me._

* * *

 **Chapter 26 - 3.5 or "The House"**

* * *

In the days leading up to the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, the students could seem to talk of nothing else. The third years, particularly, could be heard at mealtimes or in the corridors swapping tales they had heard of the unending supply of implausible sweets in Honeydukes sweetshop, making plans to purchase a multitude of uproarious products from Zonko's Joke Shop, or else daring each other as to who would be brave enough to get close to the Shrieking Shack, which had, in recent years, become reputed to be one of the most haunted dwellings in Britain. However, for James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus, who had illicitly ventured out to Hogsmeade on numerous occasions during their first two years at school, the trip held considerably less allure.

Their first stop in the village had been at Zonko's, which was so overcrowded with Hogwarts students that it had taken the boys nearly an hour to refill their recently depleted Dungbomb supplies, and where they had been bumped and jostled so many times that James said loudly that the next student who knocked into him would have his ears transfigured into turnips. Thinking it might be early enough to avoid the lunch crowds, the boys ventured to the Three Broomsticks next, where this assumption was immediately proven wrong. By the time they finally found some stools at the bar, both Sirius and James were grumbling that they much preferred Hogsmeade with no other students at all. To top it off, the pretty waitress Rosmerta could be seen bustling from table to table, her wand making a teetering stack of sullied drink glasses float in front of her, but instead of Rosmerta, they had their drink orders taken by a rather rotund, harried looking man behind the bar, who slammed their butterbeers down so forcefully that half of the contents slopped out onto the bar top.

"Cheers," James told him sarcastically. The man rolled his eyes and lumbered toward the next boisterous group of students.

"So you know what I did for the first time this morning?" Sirius started after they had all settled into their drinks.

"Your History of Magic homework?" Remus suggested.

"Nah, I think I turned in an essay once in first year."

"Ate some fruit at breakfast?" posed Peter.

Sirius pulled a face. "Why would I want fruit when there's bacon and eggs to be had?"

"Asked us pointless questions that none of us will know the answer to?" James said.

"Well clearly it's not the first time I've done that."

"But I'm hoping it's the last."

"No," said Sirius, leaning his elbows on the bar and taking another sip of his drink. "I actually looked at that book we stole from McGonagall. The Animagi one."

Remus looked around them in a panic and almost fell off his stool. "Will you shut up, you git, anyone can hear you in here!"

It was true that they were surrounded by other patrons to the point of excess. Peter had scooted his seat so far forward to avoid being hit by a wayward elbow that his sternum was now pressed into the edge of the bar.

Sirius also looked around, ducking his head to narrowly dodge being swiped as a seventh-year Hufflepuff tossed her cloak over her shoulder without looking. "No one can hear us, this place is as loud as a jabberknoll slaughter. It's a right better place to talk about this than the common room, say."

"You've never looked at that book before?" James continued.

Sirius shrugged, his eyes drawn toward the door when a group of Ravenclaw girls walked into the pub. "No, Moony's always got it hidden away in his trunk, and seeing as how we haven't got past all of the _connecting_ rubbish in the first book, there's been no need to –"

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted, a disturbing thought dawning on him. "That book was in my trunk this morning."

Sirius appeared unconcerned. "Yes, well, I was looking in your trunk for some socks when I spotted it and decided to have a flip through."

"Why were you looking in my trunk for some socks?"

"Because I couldn't find a match to any of my socks. All singles. And the rest were dirty. And your socks are always rolled, so it's easy to find a matching pair."

"Hold it, do you wear my socks often?"

"Not _often_ , per se, but James's socks are never matching, and Peter's are too thin, they don't keep my feet warm. Yours are all nice and woolly."

Remus stared at him for a moment before shaking his head incredulously. "I am going to start charming my trunk locked."

"Moony, you know I can break your locking charms. Who do you think got into the secret chocolate stash in your bedside cabinet last year?"

"You said that was the house elves!"

"Oh yeah…"

"Stop stealing my socks."

"But my toes get cold!"

"Stop stealing my socks, Sirius," Remus repeated, in as commanding a voice as he could muster.

"Anyway," Sirius continued, waving his hand as though to sweep the entire conversation away, "as I was saying, I was reading through McGonagall's book for the first time, and how come none of you told me that we're going to have to keep a mandrake leaf in our mouths for an entire month in order to become Animagi? What in the hell is _that_ all about?"

James, who had been watching Rosmerta serve a group of Slytherins in the corner booth, turned back toward his friends. "Wait, _what_?"

"You didn't know about this either?"

Peter looked horrified. "How are we supposed to eat?"

"Have _none_ of you read the book?" asked Remus, exasperated.

"Er, I scanned through it right after we got it," said James, "but I didn't read it cover to cover. _A whole month?_ How is that even possible?"

Remus looked around, still uncomfortable with the amount of people nearby who might overhear them. "Well let's not worry ourselves about that yet. You'll need to get through the connecting and spells first anyway."

Peter frowned. "What's a mandrake leaf taste like? What if it's horrible tasting?"

"What if it gives you bad breath?"

"What if you swallow it by accident?"

"Or choke on the bloody thing in your sleep!"

Sighing, Remus swirled his butterbeer around in his glass, watching the froth churn and eddy. The full moon wasn't for another five days, but his energy was already beginning to wane. The moon's effects were starting to creep outward over time, a weed that had once smothered him for only one or two days of the month, but was now wrapping its tendrils around him for three, four, five days longer. He had read about this, had known it was coming, that as he got older and bigger, the transformations would cause more of an impact on his body, but he hadn't been prepared for the exhaustion, the shakiness. He tuned out his friends' discussion of mandrake leaves, pushing away the guilt that plagued him at the thought of their discomfort. He would hold a leaf in his mouth for years and years if it would alleviate even a fraction of the torture he endured while turning into a wolf every month.

Remus was brought out of his thoughts by the appearance of Davey Gudgeon, who pushed his way through the crowd toward them. For some reason, he was wearing a knit cap with ear flaps and a pompom on the tip, and looked utterly ridiculous. "Potter!"

"Gudgeon," James greeted, as Davey wedged himself in next to them. "Nice hat."

"I lost a bet to Adamsly," explained Davey with a shrug of his shoulders. "And I'm trying to get some dignity back, along with a few Galleons."

Sirius laughed. "Good luck with the Galleons, mate, but I think your dignity's well shot."

"That's why I'm over here. We're starting a pool on the upcoming Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match, thought you four might want in."

"Odds?" James asked.

"Three-to-one Hufflepuff, with the spread at 200…not bad, the Puffs are a complete unknown."

"You hear they picked up Stebbins as Keeper?"

"Aye," said Davey, pulling at one of his ear flaps distractedly. "Third years are generally a bit young for Keeping, but he's a big kid, so that might make up for it."

Sirius pulled some gold out of his pocket and handed it to Davey. "I'll put five Galleons on the Puffs to cover."

"Ten for me," James agreed, digging through his own pockets.

Davey raised his eyebrows and fought a grin while he waited for James to extract the money. "Suit yourselves. Lupin? Pettigrew?"

Both Peter and Remus politely declined, and after a clap on James's shoulder, Davey turned and made his way back through the crowded pub, his ludicrous hat bouncing in and out of sight.

Peter turned to James, looking skeptical. "Hufflepuff? Really?"

"Didn't Hufflepuff finish in last place last year?" Remus asked.

James and Sirius shared mischievous grins. "We may have used the cloak to sneak into Hufflepuff's practice last week. They're on form. They've got a new Keeper in Stebbins and a new Seeker in Florence Milligan and they look lightyears ahead of the Ravenclaws at this point."

"And if there's one thing I trust James on," said Sirius, downing the rest of his butterbeer, "it's Quidditch."

"That's it? That's the one thing?" James asked, perturbed.

"Well I wouldn't trust your advice on asking out a girl, that's for sure," said Sirius, smirking and nodding toward the door, where Lily Evans had just entered with Adin Balini, hair tangled from the wind.

James glanced over at the girls before turning back to the bar, the tips of his ears glowing pink. "Have we not moved on from that?"

"At least she's not with Snape," Peter pointed out.

"What's her deal, anyway?" asked James, glowering into the last sips of his butterbeer. "Sometimes she's down for a laugh and sometimes she's such a…a _prig_."

They were saved having to answer by a warm voice behind them. "Well if it isn't my favorite four patrons, who, if I recall correctly, at one point told me they didn't partake in Hogsmeade weekends due to the crowds?"

Rosmerta was standing behind them with a pile of dishes in her hands, smiling at the four boys while getting jostled slightly by the crowd that surged around them.

"Decided to brave it," Sirius said without a second's hesitation. "We're Gryffindors after all."

"Though I think we were onto something," James added. "It's a madhouse in here."

Rosmerta smiled and walked around the bar, where she deposited the used plates into the basin, flicking her wand so that a sudsy sponge began washing away the grime. A pair of wrinkled old warlocks at the other end of the bar called to her and she nodded toward them briefly before pulling two clean glasses off the rack.

"Another butterbeer, boys?" she asked the four Gryffindors as she uncorked a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and poured it into the two glasses.

"We'll take some of _that_ ," Sirius said, nodding toward the bottle of firewhisky.

Rosmerta laughed and sent the two glasses to the warlocks with a flick of her wand. "You're good, but you're not that good," she told him.

Sirius shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Worth a shot. Another round of butterbeers, then."

As she began filling four more glasses with butterbeer from the tap, she looked over at the boys and asked, "What are you lot up to this afternoon? Zonko's, I'm assuming?"

"Already been there," said James. "It was more crowded than this place, if you can imagine. Couldn't swing a kneazle."

She placed the drinks in front of them and then leaned her forearms on the bar, smiling at them, and Remus had to busy himself with his butterbeer to avoid staring at her too much.

"Well if you're looking to get away from the crowds, you could always check out the Shrieking Shack. Not too many students are brave enough to go up there lately."

"No way it's actually frightening," Sirius scoffed.

"Don't be so sure. I've heard the screaming myself. It's like people are being tortured in there. In the last few years, something has, I don't know, _awoken_ in that house. It tends to be quiet during the day, but every once in a while…" She shivered and faded off. The round barman was calling to her to get back to work, so she regretfully stood up straight and said, "Well anyhow, I'm sure brave Gryffindors like yourselves wouldn't balk at the chance to check it out."

She winked at them before walking back around the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

James's mouth was slightly open as he stared at the place where she had disappeared. "Merlin, she's fit. Why can't girls at Hogwarts wear robes like that?"

It was a question they all lamented, but even the hope that Rosmerta might appear again could not convince them to stay at the Three Broomsticks much longer. By the time they finished their second drinks, they had been bumped and elbowed so many times by students queuing at the bar that all four of them were very ready to leave the pub and take Rosmerta up on her suggestion to visit the famed Shrieking Shack. It was a grey, brisk day, and the harsh wind whipped their faces as they wandered up a sloped lane toward the house, though Remus found he didn't mind it after the claustrophobia of the pub. As they walked, Sirius and James began debating which joke they should play next on Snape.

"But we've already _done_ that," Sirius whined. "It's no fun to do it again."

"Just think, disillusioned Dungbombs in his trunk? At the bottom of his bed? Merlin, it was a brilliant bloody prank…two weeks… _two weeks_ he couldn't figure out where the stench was coming from…everybody – even the professors – avoiding him in the corridors…"

"I agree with James," said Peter. "It was hilarious, everyone thought so. Remember Mulciber refusing to sit behind him in Potions?"

Remus had not agreed with the supposed brilliance of the Dungbomb prank; indeed, the fact that they had used a Permanent Sticking Charm to adhere it to Snape's bag had seemed unnecessarily harsh to Remus, though as he had not heard of that detail until after the damage had been done, he had refrained from objecting. He himself did not have extra funds to buy a new school bag if his current one became permanently marred, and he perceived Snape's case to be similar. When Snape had discovered the source of the odor after nearly two weeks, he had been forced to cut a hole in his bag to remove the offending Dungbomb and then patch it with some spare fabric. James and Sirius had found this endlessly funny. Remus found it cruel.

"Sirius is right," Remus said as they approached the dilapidated house. "Don't do the same joke again. It's…" (Unfunny? Malicious? Heartless?) "…unimaginative."

"Oh all right," conceded James as they all slowed, climbing over a wooden fence, stumbling through an overgrown garden, and nearing the house. "Maybe we should get to work on that love potion one, then. Depending on if we can get the ingredients in time, we can have it ready for Halloween."

"Just Snivelly or all the Slytherins?" Sirius asked, craning his neck to try and peer into a boarded-up window.

"All the Slytherins!" Peter chirped. His cloak had gotten caught in a bramble and he was now several paces behind the rest of them, attempting to untangle himself.

James tried unsuccessfully to pry a slat away from the door. "We can't do all the Slytherins, it's not feasible. But we can pick a handful of the slimiest…"

Around the side of the house, there was a tiny gap in the wooden slats that covered the windows, and Remus cupped his hands around his left eye and peered into it, trying to see into the house through the grime. The darkness on the other side of the glass, especially relative to the grey light of the day, made it difficult to discern anything but dusty shapes, but after a minute his eye adjusted and focused on what once must have been an ornate lounge chair. Two of its legs had been viciously ripped from it, and splintered wooden fragments littered the floor around it like pine needles. Realization – piercing, icy realization – washed over him, and he stumbled backwards, away from the house.

"Lestrange, definitely," Sirius was saying, and Remus could hear his voice as if from the opposite end of a long tunnel. "Git tried to jinx me when I was walking back from the greenhouses the other day…"

"…and Avery, of course…"

"And Rosier…we can't forget that puffed-up ponce…"

"Throw Mulciber in there for good measure…"

"What say you, Moony?" Sirius turned at the lack of response and frowned at Remus, who was backing away through the brambles, his eyes fixed on the house in front of him. "Moony?"

"Remus?" James called, nonplussed. "What…did you see a ghoul in there or something?"

His breaths were coming raggedly and a light fog was taking up residence over his eyes. Remus reached a shaky hand out to steady himself against the decrepit old fence that separated the house from the lane. The house. _His_ house.

"It's not haunted," he told the others as they moved toward him, confusion and concern on their faces. He was surprised that his voice sounded vaguely normal, stronger than he had expected, when the rest of his body felt like it was about to collapse in on itself.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" asked Peter.

"It's…it's…"

"Wait a minute," James said, recognition dawning on his face as he looked back and forth between the house and Remus's pale face.

Remus focused on taking a deep, calming breath. "Yeah."

"The Shrieking Shack?"

"Yes."

"Really? It's…"

" _Yes_."

"Oh."

A beat passed, and then Sirius said, sounding annoyed, "Is somebody going to explain what's going on or are you two going to keep talking in code?"

"It's the house I go to," Remus said, his eyes locked on a brittle vine that had snaked its way up the fence post. "This house. It's the one I come to…to transform. It's not haunted."

Sirius paled. "The screams the villagers hear?"

Remus nodded. "They're me."

Turning to stare back at the house, Sirius cursed under his breath and then looked back at Remus. "You okay, mate?"

He did not honestly know how to answer the question, but managed a half nod, half shrug.

"C'mon," Sirius said, clapping a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Let's go back up to the school."

"We'll get some lunch in the castle," added James, as they started back down the path they had just ascended. "No point in dealing with all the idiots down in the village, it'd take hours just to eat."

They lapsed into silence as they walked. Rosmerta's words echoed in Remus's skull… _It's like people are being tortured in there…_ Well, she wasn't wrong, really. And the house – the Shrieking Shack – wasn't haunted with ghosts, but it certainly housed a monster once a month. How could he not have known? How could Dumbledore not have told him? He felt dirtied and, worse, he felt foolish. He quickened his pace, and James and Peter fell behind, but Sirius matched his stride.

"You know," started Sirius, shoving his hands into his pockets and ducking his head against a particularly biting gust of wind, "it's actually pretty cool, when you think about it. I mean, you're kind of a _legend_ , mate. Everyone thinks that place is haunted because of you. It's kind of like the ultimate prank…because you're not remotely scary. In fact, you're like the least scary person I know."

Remus glared at him. "It's not _cool_ , Sirius."

"Yeah, all right," Sirius conceded after noticing the look on Remus's face. He paused for a moment before starting again. "I guess you can be a bit scarier than Peter – though most of the time it scares me how thick he can be. And James tries to be scary, but he's a mite too scrawny and specky to scare much more than a Hufflepuff firstie, so it's hard to take him seriously. But really, Remus, if we're talking fear factor here, you're the one who alphabetizes the books in his trunk, so you're probably not going to have much of a leg to stand on."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He grinned. "Okay."

And despite the fact that Sirius never did anything he was told to do, they remained quiet until they had made it all the way through the Hogwarts gates, which were flanked on either side by winged boars.

"Moony? Can I say something now?"

Remus sighed and looked at him, but Sirius was looking straight ahead as he walked, an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you told me this summer? After we overheard those Boneses talking?"

It took a second for Remus to recognize what Sirius was referring to, but Sirius didn't give him a chance to answer.

"You told me that all we can do is try to prove them wrong. To try and make a good impact. Just…don't forget it, all right?"

"Yeah," Remus said, horrified to feel the tightness in his throat, so he went for levity, even though it felt miles out of reach. "Yeah, I remember. And then you went and snogged a Muggle to make yourself feel better."

Sirius barked out a laugh as they began climbing the stone steps back up to the castle. "Well I don't think there are any Muggles near, but I'm sure we can find a girl willing to give you a nice snog if it'll make you feel better…" He stopped his ascent in the middle of the staircase and turned to look down at James and Peter, who were about ten paces behind. "Oi! James!"

James closed the gap between them quickly, taking the steps two at a time, Peter hurrying along behind him.

"We need to find Moony a girl to snog," Sirius said once they were all in line again. James and Peter sniggered and Remus groaned as they finished climbing the stairs.

"Sirius…"

"He claims that's the only way he could possibly feel better."

"I didn't say anything like –"

James did not miss a beat. "Are we talking before or after lunch?"

"Before, I'd say."

"Right. The sooner the better."

They made their way through the giant oak doors and into the entrance hall, which was completely empty. Remus scowled at Sirius, trying to get a word in. "I don't want –"

"Could be tricky, all the girls are down in the village."

"Except the younger ones…"

"What do you say to a nice second year, Moony? I bet we can find one round here somewhere."

"Can probably be more choosy with the second years…make sure you pick a good-looking one."

They stopped and looked around, as if expecting a second-year girl to emerge from behind a suit of armor, ready and willing to kiss Remus on the spot. Remus bit his lip, torn between laughter and a desire to strangle the pair of them. It was not an uncommon sentiment.

"You two are completely mental, you know that?"

"Right, well –"

A high-pitched meow echoed from near their feet and Sirius cut off and leapt back as if scalded. The caretaker's cat, Mrs. Newton, was mewling at them from the stone floor, her yellow eyes narrowed in what could only be described as suspicion. James sniggered at Sirius's startled reaction.

"What?" Sirius scowled down at the cat, which stood its ground, blinking up at him. "Why are you looking at us like that? Scram!"

The cat did not move and within seconds, a raspy wheezing could be heard as Filch hurried down the marble staircase toward the boys.

"Ha!" Filch said triumphantly as he neared them. "Caught you red-handed this time, didn't I?"

The boys exchanged confused looks with one another.

"We're just standing here…"

Filch leered at James, his jowls quivering. "A likely story! You've just been to the village!"

"So what?" Sirius said, throwing glares at the cat that circled the caretaker's feet tauntingly. "Is it a crime for us to come back early?"

"No, but I'd bet good Galleons that you batch of miscreants have brought items back that _are_ a crime. Now turn out your pockets!"

The boys stared at Filch, astounded.

"What are you on about?" Sirius snapped, and Remus tried to give him a warning look that was thoroughly ignored. "We haven't done anything wrong."

"Watch your tone, Black, or it'll be detention for you," wheezed Filch. He reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment, which he brandished at them victoriously. "The headmaster approved my list of banned objects just this morning, and I am entitled to ensure that no student is bringing anything on this list back into the castle. So I repeat – turn out your pockets or we take it up with Dumbledore."

After several seconds of indignant glaring, the boys realized they had no choice but to obey, and pulled out their various Zonko's purchases from their pockets. Mrs. Newton was curling around Filch's legs, purring loudly, and Remus could tell that Sirius wanted nothing more than to aim a good kick at her.

"Ah, yes, Dungbombs, number two on the list…stink pellets, number eight…" Filch murmured, snapping the offending items out of their hands one by one. "What's this, Lupin? An Insulting Inkpot? Must be a new product…I'll take that too."

"Hey!" Remus said, outraged. He had paid four Sickles for that ink. "That's not even on your list!"

"It will be soon, don't you worry," said Filch, piling every one of their new purchases in his arms and giving them a hideous, leering sneer. "Now, considering the amount of contraband you four were carrying, I see no other option but to assign you each a detention. You can spend tomorrow night cleaning out bedpans in the hospital wing."

And with that, Filch slumped away, a look of triumph on his blotchy face, Mrs. Newton trailing after him.

"Well that's just…I can't believe…what a…" James sputtered, staring at the door Filch had disappeared through with a look of incredulous indignation on his face. "How can he do that?"

"I spent half my money on those stink pellets!" moaned Peter.

"And we got a detention! For absolutely no reason!" James continued, mutinous. "That old git has it out for us! What'd we ever do to him?"

"Filled his office with Dungbombs…locked his cat in Moaning Myrtle's toilet…stole his pants and made them dance…"

"Shut up, Peter," James muttered before turning to Sirius, who had strangely said nothing, but who had a shrewd, defiant look on his face. "You know what this means?"

"War," said Sirius without pause.

"Bloody _war._ "

"Bloody, widespread, nonstop _war_ _on Filch_."

"And that damn cat."

"I hate that damn cat."

"Er guys," Peter cut in after a moment of continued glaring. "Can we go eat now?"

Remus, vexed though he was about Filch's injustice, had no appetite; indeed, the thought of poking at some food while listening to his friends plan ridiculous ways to wage war on the caretaker seemed wholly un-enticing at the moment. When the other three moved toward the Great Hall, Remus hung back.

"I'm going back up to the common room," he said, and the others stopped and turned to stare at him.

"Don't you want lunch?" asked James.

"No, I'm not hungry."

Sirius started toward him. "I'll come with you."

"No…no, really, I'm fine." Remus began climbing the marble staircase before further protest. "I'll meet up with you in Gryffindor Tower a little later, okay? Go eat lunch."

And without another glance, Remus hurried up the staircase and away from his friends, wanting nothing more than a few minutes of silence to gather his thoughts. He had no real intention of returning to the common room at that moment, and instead took to wandering the corridors, which, with the majority of the students still in the village, were almost completely empty.

He felt alternately hollow and as if he had a lead weight in his stomach. He should have known there was more to the house, more to Dumbledore's cover-up, and his own ignorance rankled more than he would care to admit. Why hadn't he figured it out? If he had paid closer attention to the stories overheard about the Shrieking Shack, would he have realized sooner? Would he have felt this foolish? He wanted to talk to Dumbledore, to yell and rage at the headmaster for keeping him in the dark, for not disclosing the detail that the villagers and his classmates heard his agony and assumed he was some sort of monster.

 _But you are a monster_ , the voice in his head told him. And the fact that he had no argument against it hurt worst of all.

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus started. It was Professor Romielle, walking toward him from the other side of the Charms corridor. She was wearing a long traveling cloak and, based on the rather wind-ravaged state of her honey-colored hair, she had just come in from the grounds.

"Hello Professor," Remus said, suddenly feeling awkward. He had never spoken to her outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts class before.

She approached him, a look of concern shadowing her features. "Are you all right?"

He nodded quickly but did not meet her eyes until she put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I was just going to my office to pick up some papers, but after fighting through that wind, I think I deserve a hot cup of tea. Can I offer you one?"

And so, not entirely certain how he had wound up there, Remus found himself ten minutes later sitting in a cozy armchair in Professor Romielle's office.

The office had an unused feel to it. Unlike the majority of the teachers at Hogwarts, Remus knew that Professor Romielle did not live in the castle and that her position there only supplemented her position as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic. She had made effort enough, he noticed, to furnish the space with two armchairs and an adorned crimson rug, but the details of the room had not been addressed. Only a handful of books sat in a stack on her otherwise empty bookshelf. The handsome cherry desk had a thin layer of dust on it. The tea kettle that she had brought out needed to be scourgified with a wave of her wand before she could fill it with water and set it over the fire.

She seemed to notice him observing his surroundings.

"Not very impressive, is it?" she asked, tossing her traveling cloak over her desk and sitting down into the armchair next to him. "I have to be honest, I do most of my work at home in the evenings. It's not so stuffy."

"No, it's – er – nice," he said idly, watching her as she fixed him a cup of tea.

It seemed an obvious fib, and he did not suspect that she believed his polite falsehood, but she just smiled at him and handed him the teacup.

"Milk? Sugar?" she offered.

"No, thank you."

"Me either," she said, pouring her own cup before placing the kettle back over the fire and settling into her chair. "My sister takes about six sugars…I never could understand."

Remus did not have any adequate response to this, so he occupied himself by taking a sip of the tea, which scalded the inside of his mouth. He was beginning to regret accepting the offer to join her.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Remus?" asked Romielle after a moment, looking closely at his face.

"Oh." He swallowed and averted his gaze. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

As this was said with even less conviction than the lie about her office, it was unsurprising that she was not assured. She placed her cup of untouched tea on the small table between their seats and leaned forward toward him.

"I was on duty in Hogsmeade today and I noticed you and your friends walking up toward the Shrieking Shack." He swayed slightly, wanting her to stop talking, but she did not. "Did something happen up there, Remus? Did your friends maybe find something out about you or your condition?"

"What?" he yelped, a bit of the tea sloshing out and burning his hand. "No, of course not!"

"Okay," she replied easily, continuing to gaze at him. They fell into silence and Remus fidgeted, wiping the spilt tea on the knee of his robes.

"It's only…" He did not know how to articulate it, or why he felt such a strong need to do so. "The Shrieking Shack. Before today I didn't know…I hadn't put two and two together. I didn't realize it's where I go to…to…transform."

Romielle picked her tea up again and leaned back in her chair. "Ah. I can see how that would have been quite a shock for you."

"Everyone thinks it's haunted, but it's not. It's just me they're hearing. _Me._ It's wrong. It feels wrong."

"Why is it wrong?"

"Because!" he said, trying to quell a bit of the desperation inside of him. "Because…because Dumbledore could have put a Silencing Charm on the house, you know he could have! But he didn't. He didn't care if the villagers could hear…if they could hear m-my…screaming and my…"

The painful tightness had returned to the back of his throat and he breathed deeply, staring into his cup of tea, willing himself not to cry. Merlin, he was weak.

"Remus." Her voice was quiet and gentle. "Of course you're upset, of course you are. You should have been told. It's terrible that you had to discover it the way you did." She paused to give him a chance to respond, but he did not even look up at her. "Professor Dumbledore knows of the rumors in the village. In fact, he has encouraged them."

It took a second for this statement to resonate and when it did, Remus's eyes snapped up to lock on the professor's.

"What?"

She nodded. "He wants the villagers to be afraid of the house because it helps to ensure that they keep their distance from it. Their fears keep them safe."

"From me," he muttered.

"Yes, from you." She said it kindly, but it still felt like a dull blow. "You are extremely dangerous during the full moon, Remus. Extremely."

His thoughts flew back to the night when James, Sirius, and Peter had sneaked to the shack behind him, the gut-wrenching terror that he was going to maul them, kill them. He did not need someone else telling him how dangerous he was.

"I know," he said curtly.

"Okay," she replied, recognizing his tone. "It doesn't make you a bad person."

"Right."

"It doesn't. Remus – look at me – _it doesn't."_

"You were frightened of me, though, when you first heard about me," he said, surprising himself by speaking so bluntly to a professor. But he had thought of the way she had faltered when she learned his name that first day in class, the way her eyes had widened almost imperceptibly, and he could not bite his tongue. "Don't deny it, Professor. I could tell when we first met."

She looked taken aback for a brief moment, but then gave him a small, sad smile. "I didn't know what to expect with you, I'll admit. I had never met a…boy like you before –"

"A _werewolf_. Just say it," he mumbled, his flash of anger now melting into humiliation.

"Yes, I had never met a werewolf before, at least that I am aware of, and it was a shock to learn that I would be teaching one for the year. But it was only that, Remus, just a shock. And now I am so thankful for the opportunity to teach you, not because of what you are one night of the month, but because you're a kind, clever, talented and _good_ person."

"Okay," he said, unconvinced.

She surveyed him, looking troubled, before saying, "I've been an Auror now for three years and I've…" She faded off and then seemed to collect herself. "I've seen bad people. I've seen what they do. I've seen monsters and what they're capable of. You are not one of them, Remus. You aren't like them."

His first inclination was not to believe her, but she reminded him of his friends, he realized. Of Sirius clapping him on the shoulder, of James making him laugh, of Peter floating a foot off the ground in his effort to become an Animagus. There was kindness here. And though he still wasn't sure he was entirely convinced by her, he allowed himself to feel it.

"Thanks," he whispered after a moment.

She gave him a small smile, took another sip of her tea, and then said in a much more cheerful tone, "And you have been very impressive in my lessons, I'll have you know…one of the best in your year. I'd like if we could meet more often. I could lend you books, if you'd like, to further your studies. You have a natural aptitude for Defense. It's readily apparent."

"Really?"

Her smile was full now. It may have been the kindest smile he had ever seen.

"Really."

* * *

"I'm surprised she's even letting us stay in here after that, Sirius."

"What are you on about? She loves me!"

"She gave you detention!"

"Well she can't show favoritism, it's bad form. You know…she's not half-bad looking."

"Eurgh, she's like thirty!"

"Just saying. I think she likes me."

Remus was lying in a bed in the hospital wing, cocooned in a swath of starchy sheets, trying to make sense of the voices around him. His brain was foggy and his muscles were aching with tiny spasms of past toil. The night of the full moon had been particularly brutal, and he had spent the previous day in and out of consciousness as Madam Pomfrey worked to set his broken bones and administer his healing potions. He could not recollect much of what had happened to him, and the little bit that he could recall caused him to shiver and pull his blankets more tightly against his chin. Regretfully, he cracked open an eye and winced. The light pouring in through the tall windows indicated that it was sometime around midday. This did not surprise him; the exertion of transforming had become almost unbearable in recent months and his recovery time had started to extend across multiple days. What was surprising, however, was that James, Sirius, and Peter were all next to his bed.

"You're mental," Peter was saying. "You really think the school matron fancies a thirteen-year-old?"

Sirius, who was perched on the window sill next to Remus's bed, shook his hair out of his eyes and grinned at his friends. "I'll be fourteen next week!"

"Yeah, but you'll be an idiot for the rest of your life," laughed James, who was lounging on the bed next to Remus's.

"Amen to that," croaked Remus, his dry voice slightly muffled by his blankets.

"Remus!" said James, sitting up straight. "You're awake!"

"How are you feeling?"

It took a few failed attempts, but Remus was eventually able to pull himself up against his pillows. Hoping they had not noticed the difficulty he had with such a simple maneuver, he looked at his three friends with bleary eyes and did not answer the question.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?"

"It's lunch hour, and Madam Pomfrey said you'd have the strength today to eat something," Sirius explained. He swung out one of his feet and used his toe to nudge Peter, who was sitting in the visitor's chair beneath the window. "Show him what we brought, Peter."

Peter reached down beneath his chair and brought out a lumpy satchel.

"We came by last night, wondering where you were," said James, pushing his spectacles up his nose and frowning at Remus with concern. "You're never gone this long."

"Pomfrey wouldn't let us in to see you," Sirius said, swinging his leg out to kick Peter again for absolutely no reason. Peter landed a punch to his knee that caused Sirius to grimace.

"Surprised the commotion didn't wake you," James added. "Sirius about threw a fit when she wouldn't let us in. Careful with the pumpkin juice, Peter."

Peter steadied a wobbling flagon of pumpkin juice and set it on Remus's side table before starting to pull wrapped sandwiches out of the bag.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and turned up his chin. "I did not _throw a fit_. I simply wanted to know where she was hiding him."

"We stopped in at break this morning but you were still sleeping," James told Remus, "so we nipped down to the kitchens to load up on what the elves are serving for lunch – chicken-and-ham sandwiches – and then we came straight here when Transfiguration capped about ten minutes ago…we reckoned we could all eat lunch together."

Remus looked around, but Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen.

"And Pomfrey let you in this time? She wasn't suspicious?"

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "We told her we knew that you had come down with a bug or something a few days ago and that we wanted to visit. It took a few minutes of some very impressive persuading, but we wore her down eventually and she left to get herself some lunch too."

"After giving Sirius a detention," Peter added, tossing one of the sandwiches to James, who sniggered.

Remus sniffed at the sandwich that Peter handed him. He had a hazy memory of the matron feeding him some broth the afternoon before, but as that was all he had eaten in two full days, the sandwich seemed downright mouthwatering.

"What'd you do? Throw another fit?" Remus asked Sirius before taking a large bite of the sandwich. It tasted heavenly.

"Not at all! I was an angel, I'll have you know. Now that I think of it, maybe she was just looking for a way to get me alone…"

"He called her 'Poppy,'" James explained. "He's lucky she only gave him the one detention. That time he tried 'Minnie' on McGonagall earned him a week's worth."

"I still like Mickey-G over Minnie," said Peter.

"Minnie rolls off the tongue better," Sirius countered, his mouth full of sandwich.

"Minnie's overplayed," James said. Sirius shrugged and tore off another bite rather savagely. "Anyway, Remus, we were talking last night about the love potion prank – we don't think there's a chance we can pull it off by Halloween – so we were thinking we hold off on that one and put our full efforts toward Filch. What do you reckon?"

Remus swallowed his bite and nodded. "All right. Are we still going with the suits of armor?"

"Eventually," said James. "Only we overheard Kettleburn telling Hagrid that he's finally gotten his shipment of caipora on loan from Brazil."

Remus looked up at him, hesitant. "I still don't think that one's a good idea. We don't know how the caipora will react –"

"Sure we do," Sirius interrupted. "We read all about it. Plus we have all that pixie dust that we bought last year and we've got to do _something_ with it."

"All right," Remus conceded slowly. "But we've got to get the incantation for Hadrian's Ring down first. It's the only way it'll work."

Sirius nodded and leaned over to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "We think we can get that down in a day or two, and that's really all that's stopping us at this point."

"Not if you're in detention every night," said Peter.

"I'm not in detention every night! I've only got three this week, I'll have you know."

"Three?" Remus asked. "One from Filch…one from Pomfrey…what was the third?"

"Ah…Sluggy caught me hexing Rosier in the corridor before Potions this morning."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because he's a useless tosser and I thought it'd be a laugh if he treated us all to a tap dance."

James sniggered. "And because Rosier was chatting Gin up in the queue."

"Rosier was _trying_ to chat Gin up in the queue," Sirius corrected him.

Remus noticed Sirius's scowl and felt it best to steer the conversation in a different direction. "What'd I miss in Potions?"

"Learned about the properties of Murtlap Essence," Peter told him. "I took notes for you."

"And I took notes in Transfiguration for you," James added. "Sirius agreed to do Defense this afternoon, but you're out of luck if you want History of Magic."

Remus stared at them, shocked. They had never so much as _offered_ to take notes in missed lessons for him before.

"Yeah," said Sirius, "there's a limit to what we'll do for you, Moony, and paying attention to Binns might be it."

Remus realized that he had somehow, not even consciously, already finished his sandwich and Peter was pushing another one into his hands.

"Thanks," Remus said to all of them.

"No need to thank us," James said, grinning at him through a mouthful of sandwich. "That's what mates are for."


	27. 3-6 or 'There's a War On, After All'

_A/N: Greetings! I'm excited to share this one today. It's probably my favorite chapter I've written, and it's certainly the longest. I debated splitting it into two, but in the end, it works better as one. Please let me know what you think!_

 _Disclaimer: Everything you see here is owned by J.K. Rowling. I own nothing._

* * *

 **Chapter 27 - 3.6 or "There's a War On, After All"**

* * *

The month of November 1973 would eventually go down as one of the more chaotic stretches of time in the Marauders' Hogwarts careers and, as per usual, when chaos and the Marauders collided, the entire school felt the effects.

For one thing, the war on Filch and his cat, Mrs. Newton, spanned nearly the entire month, culminating in a most unfortunate series of events that ended with James Potter and Sirius Black's first ever journey up the moving, spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office. For another, for the first time since starting school, the Marauders got a taste of their own medicine, courtesy of none other than the Gryffindor third-year girls.

It all started at the Halloween feast.

The boys arrived at the feast after most of the other students, as they had been hurriedly tying up loose ends on their latest plan. The Great Hall was entrenched in Halloween decorations, with the usual live bats fluttering above the students' heads, cauldrons full of overflowing sweets dotting the house tables, and giant glowing pumpkins scattered around the room. Due to their late arrival, the four boys had some difficulty finding seats at the Gryffindor table, but eventually found some space about halfway down next to the other third years.

"Budge up there, Goomer, and make room, will you?"

Goomer slid closer to Mary Macdonald as James and Peter pressed in next to him. On the other side of the table, Sirius and Remus squeezed in next to Raeanne.

"Where've you lot been?" Raeanne asked, piling parsnips onto her plate. "Lessons ended almost an hour ago."

James reached for the pumpkin juice and grinned at her. "Now Muller, do you _really_ want to know the answer to that question?"

Raeanne froze and looked over all four boys. "Fair point. As long as you haven't been poking round in our dormitory again, I don't much care."

Goomer sloshed a bit of lamb stew onto the table and looked up at them all. "You've been up the girls' staircase? How'd you manage that?"

"What?" said Remus. "No, we have–"

James kicked him under the table and Remus fell quiet at once.

Raeanne took a sip of her drink and raised an eyebrow at James. "What were you doing up there anyway, you pervs? Taking a look at our knickers?"

"Aw come on, Muller," Sirius said, ladling himself some stew. "You don't give us enough credit. You think we sneak up to your dormitory and all we do is peek at your knickers?"

" _What?_ " Mary Macdonald stared at Sirius, looking horrified. "What _else_ did you do up there?"

"I don't think anyone would believe for a second that all you'd do is look," said Gin from next to Raeanne. Sirius leaned forward to get a look at her, but Gin's eyes were fixed on her spoon as it lazily stirred the stew before her. "Which is why I don't believe you two actually got up there at all."

Sirius chanced a quick, hesitant glance with James before smirking down the table at Gin. "Believe what you want. We were doing some reconnaissance. You'll suss out why eventually."

Gin shrugged, but said nothing, looking uninterested.

"Besides," said James, "how else would I know that one of you girls has a shrine above your bed dedicated to the _Appleby bloody Arrows_."

Raeanne choked on a piece of dinner roll. "What – don't tell me you're a Wasps supporter?"

"Only since the day I was born," said James smugly. "And I bet you, Muller, are the mystery Crappleby supporter, then?"

"I'd rather support Crappleby than Wimp-bourne," replied Raeanne easily. "And I don't think I can cheer for you on the Quidditch pitch anymore, Potter, knowing you're a Waspy."

James grinned at her. "Well considering you only support rubbish teams, I'd rather you not cheer for me at all."

"Did you look and see if she still sleeps with the photo of Jedidiah Cuffe under her pillow?" Goomer asked James, failing to conceal his laughter.

The boys all sniggered as Raeanne dropped her spoon with a loud clang and glared at Goomer.

"Jonathan Eugene Goomer, I am going to murder you in your sleep."

"Jed Cuffe?" laughed James. "Merlin, Muller, I gave you too much credit. That prat Cuffe is about the worst Chaser the league has seen in a decade!"

"Right, I've heard that one before," said Raeanne, still shooting daggers at Goomer. "Waspys are sore sports because he signed with the Arrows over them and has out-flown them three matches in a row."

"Plus he's gorgeous," added Mary, a dreamy look on her face.

Sirius sniggered and threw a piece of dinner roll at Mary, who snapped out of her reverie and turned a brilliant shade of red.

James swallowed a mouthful of potatoes heavily and frowned at Raeanne. "Cuffe's a dirty cheater. No player in the league gets away with more haversacking than he does –"

"Oh that's rich," Raeanne cut in. "And how many penalties for blatching did Bagman have called on him last year? Talk about getting away with dirty play."

"Come on Raeanne," Goomer said, laughing lightly. "That's your bias talking. No one other than Arrows supporters thinks Bagman's dirty."

"Did you hear something, Mary?" Raeanne said, turning bodily away from the boys, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "It sounded like a traitorous, _former_ best friend was trying to talk to me but that can't be right, he wouldn't be _that_ thick."

Goomer grinned and said lowly to James, "I should know better by now not to take up against the Arrows round her."

"Yeah but you support the Cannons, mate, so we know your common sense isn't tops."

Raeanne did not talk to the boys for the rest of dinner, but kept herself turned away from them and toward the other third-year girls. James, Sirius and Goomer continued the Quidditch talk, but both Peter and Remus remained quiet throughout. Sirius could tell they were nervous about the impending prank – Remus barely touched his food while Peter kept glancing up toward the staff table every minute or so, where Filch sat next to Hagrid with Mrs. Newton perched sentinel between his feet.

Sirius could understand their apprehension on this one. Out of all the pranks they had pulled in their time, they had never delved into the realm of magical creatures until now. When they had discovered the previous week that Professor Kettleburn had received a shipment of caipora on loan from Brazil, it had seemed at once both obvious and ingenious that they could kidnap some to let loose in the school. Caipora were furry little winged spirit-beings known for their cunning and absolute deviousness and were notoriously hard to control via magic. As caipora bared a distant genetic relation to the better-known pixies, the Marauders had been delighted to discover in their research that nothing attracted or stimulated a caipora more than pixie dust.

Which is why they had sprinkled a whole flask's worth of pixie dust on Mrs. Newton during break that afternoon.

The trickiest bit of the whole ordeal had been figuring out how to release the caipora at just the right moment – when the four of them were ensconced at the feast to deflect any suspicion. James and Sirius had finally mastered the magic behind a spell known as 'Hadrian's Ring' the night before, which would create a sort of magical barrier, containing the caipora within it until a precise, predetermined moment.

The puddings had appeared and that moment was nigh when something entirely unexpected occurred. As the students began digging into the blocks of ice cream, tureens of rice pudding, and bowl upon bowl of trifle, Dumbledore stood from the staff table and welcomed a troupe of dancing skeletons into the Great Hall to entertain the students.

"Brilliant," said Goomer as two dozen skeletons marched through the doors and began a synchronized line dance. "I had heard a rumor that there might be a performance tonight."

It was an amusing sight, to watch unencumbered human bones performing an Irish jig in unison. Within a minute or two, the music emanating from a magical gramophone in the corner became difficult to discern under the laughter and cheers of the students. Seemingly buoyed by the positive reception, the skeletons' dancing became more and more animated as they broke formation and dispersed between the house tables, their pearly, knobby bones gleaming in the candlelight.

And then it happened, and if the boys hadn't been anticipating it, they probably wouldn't have even noticed the handful of furry creatures zooming into the Great Hall toward the staff table, flying so swiftly that none of the other students was distracted for a second from the choreographed performance taking place in front of them…

The caipora went right for Mrs. Newton, who gave a terrified hiss and darted out from under the staff table and around the backside of the Slytherin table, the caipora hot on her trail. Two of the creatures attempted to cut the cat off by flying underneath the Slytherins – many of whom fell off the benches in shock – while the others went over the table, upending the platters of cakes and bowls of trifle in an impressive display of flying food. Sirius lost sight of the cat as it streaked across the hall, and the students' heads turned as they became aware, one by one, of what was transpiring. The teachers were on their feet now, wands out, but none of them seemed even to understand what was causing the commotion as even more caipora, released in waves by Hadrian's Rings, came pelting into the Great Hall. Dumbledore whipped his wand like a lasso, freezing one of the creatures in mid-air, right as two speeding caipora went flying directly through the rib cages of a pair of still-dancing skeletons, causing their bones to burst apart like a poorly-constructed house of cards. Sirius ducked as one of the skeleton's arms came flying toward them, landing with a squelch in the bowl of rice pudding that had been resting on the table in front of the girls.

The Great Hall was in an uproar. Filch was running around, batting at the attacking caipora with an old broom he had procured from who-knows-where while the other teachers worked to subdue the troublemakers with varying degrees of success. Professor Kettleburn – the kooky old wizard who taught Care of Magical Creatures (and who was, thus, the one responsible for not installing more stringent security measures upon his creature enclosures) – seemed to be greatly enjoying himself, laughing merrily as he froze a caipora that had buried itself in Hagrid's beard. The bats that had been peacefully fluttering near the enchanted ceiling during the feast were now panicked, swarming around shrieking students, who were trying to escape the melee or else sheltering themselves beneath the house tables. Puddings, bits of blown-apart pumpkins, and enchanted skeleton bones were flying in every which direction, and as a tureen of trifle came careening toward them, Sirius ruminated for the first time that, perhaps, this prank had not been thought entirely through.

"Oh Merlin," he heard James shout through the din. "Take cover!"

They all dove under the Gryffindor table just as the trifle was upended over their heads. Sirius got a good look at his friends. Remus's eyes were huge, and his mouth seemed frozen open in a horrified gape. Peter had what appeared to be raspberry jam dripping down his neck and was wiping it off hastily with the sleeve of his robe. James and Goomer were laughing heartily, and it was only when Sirius looked at the girls next to them did he start laughing too, as all five of the third-year Gryffindor girls were drenched in what seemed to be a mixture of rice pudding and pumpkin juice.

Raeanne scowled at them, wiping a glob of pudding from her cheek and flinging it at Goomer. "Don't you – don't you dare laugh, you prats!"

Exploding pumpkin guts rained down around them from above and they all ducked closer under the table, the boys still laughing unrestrainedly. On the other side of Gin, Adin and Lily both shrieked as Mrs. Newton skidded past them, pursued by four darting caipora, her frantic paws kicking up pumpkin innards right at the girls. Lily wiped the orange slime from her chin and looked right at where James and Sirius sat cackling.

"This," she said over the din, an eerie calmness to her tone, "is your fault."

"What?" Sirius shouted between laughs. "How in Merlin's name can you blame _us_ for this, Evans?"

"Oh don't even try to play innocent. This has both of your names written all over it."

The boys ignored her and continued laughing, which seemed to do nothing but annoy the girls even further. Sirius had just turned to ask James's opinion on the best route for escaping the Great Hall when a great splat of something cold and wet hit him in the side of the head. He spun around just in time to watch as Lily's arm pulled back once more to sling another handful of custard and whipped cream (vestiges of a delicious, ruined trifle) toward the boys, the goop landing with a splatter in James's face, obscuring the lenses of his glasses in globs of muck. There was no time to even consider what was happening before the other girls joined in, hurling rice pudding and trifle and bits of pumpkin toward the boys, who did their best to scamper away from the onslaught, but seeing as how they were all huddled under the house table, they did not get very far.

And then it was all-out war. Realizing that avoidance at this point was futile (not least of which because they were all pretty well covered in food anyway), the boys attacked back. The girls shrieked and scattered out from under the table and the boys followed, emerging back into the hall that had descended into bedlam in the minutes since they had taken shelter. The Gryffindors did not miss a beat in hurling anything they could find at one another; it did not take long before Davey Gudgeon was hit in the face with a sizable glob of ice cream (thrown by either Adin or Peter, it was difficult to say), and once the seal had broken, all of the other Gryffindors joined in, followed by the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws, and even the Slytherins. Food was flying in every direction, girls were shrieking and trying to cover their hair as boys poured goblets of pumpkin juice over their heads, students were slipping and sliding in the mess as they attempted to make quick escapes into the entrance hall, and as Sirius and Remus chucked handfuls of pumpkin guts at each other, Sirius laughed about as hard as he had ever laughed in his life.

There was a bang that shook the stone floor and everyone froze and stared up at the staff table, where Dumbledore had just shot several purple fireworks toward the ceiling.

" _Enough!"_

Silence reigned. Sirius lowered the arm that had been about to shove a piece of pie into Gin's hair and stared at the headmaster. Frozen caipora littered the mess-covered house tables. A lone skeleton remained dancing next to the Hufflepuff benches, its legs clicking together loudly in the otherwise silent hall. Filch was trying to coax Mrs. Newton out from behind the magical gramophone, where she cowered, trembling.

Dumbledore looked shockingly calm, perhaps unaware of the glob of custard that was slowly slipping down his hat.

"Prefects will lead their students back to their common rooms at once. No more funny business will be tolerated. Off you go."

Whispers and muffled laughter filled the Great Hall as the students began toward the exit, trying to wipe food out of their hair or off of their robes and shooting quick glances at the professors as if worried that the lack of punishment was some sort of ruse. Shocked that they had somehow managed to escape the whole ordeal with no detention, the boys did not speak much as they marched through the castle, and it was only when they were back in the safety of their dormitory and Goomer had disappeared to wash up that the four Marauders looked around at one another incredulously.

"That was…" Peter trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.

"A bloody riot," answered James, trying to scourgify the streaks of custard off of the lenses of his glasses.

"Absolutely brilliant," Sirius agreed.

"A disaster," Remus countered, peeling dried pumpkin guts off of his sleeve.

"A disaster?" James echoed. "Are you mad, Moony?"

"That was the most excitement this school has seen all year!" Sirius told Remus. Like a dog trying to dry itself from the rain, he shook his head back and forth, allowing little bits of rice pudding to fly out of his hair. "A disaster, my arse."

"And you know Filch is going to be the one having to clean it all up!" added Peter gleefully.

Remus looked torn. "I mean, sure…okay, it was funny, but someone could have got seriously hurt."

James snorted. "All right, fair, the caipora were a bit more stirred up than we had thought they would be, and the exploding skeletons added a touch of unexpected drama, but the food fight…"

James trailed off, a look of dawning realization breaking over his face.

Sirius pulled his stained robes over his head and looked at James strangely. "You all right, mate?"

"I just thought of something…"

"What?" Peter urged.

James was grinning now, clearly excited. "The food fight was _not_ our fault."

They all stared at him. "Okay…"

"We didn't start the food fight. Evans did. _Lily Evans_ is the one who started the entire thing."

None of the others seemed to find this realization nearly as interesting or entertaining as James did. He looked around at the three of them as if looking for support.

" _Lily Evans_ ," he repeated, trying to make them see his reasoning. "The girl who brews illegal potions under her bed and gives cheek to everyone – even the professors – and who hasn't ever had a single detention. She's the one who started the school-wide food fight, right under Dumbledore's nose."

"And _we're_ the ones," Remus pointed out, pulling a clean shirt out of his trunk, "who put pixie dust on Mrs. Newton and nicked the caipora out of the creature enclosure and set them loose on the school during the feast."

James waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, but no one knows that."

"Evans knows that," Peter pointed out. "She said so before she started flinging custard at us."

"She has no proof, though." A dreamy, happy look settled across James's face. " _Lily Evans_. Merlin, I can't wait to take the mickey out of her."

* * *

Over the next several days, James jumped at every opportunity to tease Lily for the trouble she had caused on Halloween, leading to a memorable altercation in Herbology on Friday afternoon. Professor Sprout, in an attempt, no doubt, to curb James and Sirius's usual antics by putting as much distance between the pair as possible, had made James partner with Lily and Adin on stripping a puffapod. Delighted to have the hour to needle Lily mercilessly, James had not objected to the assignment.

"Watch where you toss those seeds, Evans," he said in mock seriousness as she chucked a few of the shiny pink seeds into a small bucket on their table. "We know after Halloween that you've got rubbish aim."

"You're right," she replied out of the side of her mouth. "That bit of tart that hit you upside the head? I was actually attempting to lodge it down your throat and shut you up for good. Only…you know," she raised her eyebrows at him in challenge, " _rubbish aim_."

James chuckled. "Food fight instigator _and_ a violent streak. I reckon I underestimated you, Evans."

One of the seeds that Lily had been trying to strip burst open in her fingers, and large, bright flowers bloomed across the tabletop in front of her.

"Careful, Evans!" scolded Professor Sprout, bustling over to their table and vanishing the flowers with a wave of her wand. "The flowers are useless, it's the seeds we need. Come now, you need to concentrate."

As soon as Sprout was out of earshot, Lily shot James an annoyed glare. "I reckon I underestimated _you_ , Potter. I expected that you might shut up for two minutes to let us do our work unprovoked."

"Food fight instigator, violent streak, and now getting told off by professors." James tutted and casually tossed a handful of seeds one by one into the bucket. "Next thing I know, you're going to be sitting detention with Sirius and me. You're a right troublemaker, Evans, don't deny it."

She glanced across the greenhouse at where Sirius was now trying to propitiate Sprout with a bouquet of the useless flowers, to the general amusement of all around them. Sprout looked exasperated but vaguely entertained, and Lily jumped on the distraction to pull her wand out and point it under the table at James.

"I have one word for you, Potter," she said, blinking innocently at his smirking face.

"Only one? Wait, let me guess…hilarious? Charming? Brilliant? Downright fetching? Oh wait, no that's two…"

Adin laughed loudly and then tried to stifle it with her hand when Lily scowled at her.

 _"Langlock_ ," Lily said, feeling the jinx shoot from her wand straight toward James. He made a strange choking noise and stared at her, incredulous, unable to say a word.

"What'd you do to him?" Adin asked her, looking torn between amusement and concern.

"Glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth," Lily told them both, unable to contain her grin at the look of indignation on James's face as his jaw worked to try to wrench his tongue free. "And if you let us work in peace, Potter, and _leave me bloody well alone about Halloween_ , I might remove the jinx before the end of the day." James scowled and pounded his fist against the table in frustration. Lily only smiled. "And yes, you can add 'has a short fuse when bothered by obnoxious classmates during lessons' to your list of my troublemaking ways, but I promise you haven't even scratched the surface yet."

Lily left the jinx on James for the remainder of the afternoon, eventually taking pity on his pouting face in the Great Hall that evening and muttering the counterjinx so that the poor boy could eat some dinner. She regretted the decision almost immediately, though, as James pestered her so much that evening in the common room that she made an early retreat up the girls' staircase with an unsettling, conniving look in her eye as she pulled the other girls along behind her. James was quite sorry to see her go.

The next morning – Sirius's fourteenth birthday, incidentally – dawned bright but frigid, and the Gryffindor boys bundled up warmly in their cloaks and scarves before heading down to the Quidditch pitch to witness the much-discussed Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match. James always took a great interest in the inter-house matches, but Sirius had a fair bit of gold riding on the outcome of this particular match, and winning that gold, he had decided, would be a very pleasant birthday gift indeed.

They had kicked a few pouting first years out of the prime seats in the top row and had settled in nicely to the match when Goomer appeared on the stairs, looking rather lost as he glanced around at the crowd.

"…and a nice save by Stebbins there," Davey Gudgeon was saying, his voice magically amplified around the stadium. "Seems to be a good find by the Hufflepuffs this season, replacing the worthless Arnold Gump, who was Keeper for the last three years and captained the Badgers straight into the rubbish bin…"

A chorus of boos rang out from the Hufflepuff supporters, though it was rather half-hearted, as the Hufflepuffs knew better than anybody that Gump had indeed been a worthless Captain. Goomer seemed to give up on his search and turned to the other boys, a look of confusion on his face.

"You lot haven't seen Raeanne and Mary, have you?"

A quick goal from the Hufflepuff team caused a burst of thunderous applause and noise from the crowd. Remus shook his head at Goomer as James and Sirius high-fived each other.

"Not this morning, no. Maybe they're just running late?"

A crease crossed Goomer's brow as he began searching the crowd again. "They said they were getting breakfast with Lily and Adin, but that they'd meet me here. But I don't see them, or Lily, or Adin, or even Gin for that matter. Do you?"

Sirius tore his eyes from the pitch and looked around the crowd as well, but there was no trace of any of the third-year girls in the Gryffindor section that he could see.

"Why does it matter?" asked Sirius, unconcerned by their absence.

"You can sit with us if you'd like," offered Remus.

Goomer, though, shook his head, his eyes still flickering across the faces in the crowd. "Raeanne hasn't missed a Quidditch match in her life," he said slowly. He began making his way back down the steps, looking befuddled. Sirius did not give it a second thought.

"Who's that Seeker?" Peter asked James, his eyes following the sprightly Hufflepuff girl who had just performed an impressive maneuver to avoid a pelting Bludger.

James tore his gaze from the pitch for a brief second to smirk at Peter's gaping expression. "Florence Milligan. Not bad, eh? Sirius and I thought so too when we snuck into the Puffs' practice."

"Fourth year," Sirius added, too distracted by watching Florence Milligan to do more than applaud appreciatively when Hufflepuff scored again.

"Is she a good Seeker?" Remus asked James, who shrugged.

"Who cares?" said both Sirius and Peter at the same time.

"She's new to the team, so it's tough to say," James said. "She's a bloody fantastic flyer, though."

"And you know what they say about a girl who's good on a broomstick…" said Sirius, eliciting a few sniggers from the others.

"We play Hufflepuff last this year," James told them. "So we'll have time to scout her before she goes head to head with O'Shea."

"Well if you need help, er, _scouting her_ , I reckon Peter and I are up to the task," Sirius said, elbowing Peter in the ribs.

"Oh yeah," nodded Peter eagerly as they all laughed. "I can do that. Scouting, I mean. I'm an ace scouter, I'll have you know."

Talk of Florence Milligan continued throughout the match, their comments becoming more and more suggestive up until the point when the witch in question made a spectacular dive across the pitch, emerging triumphant with the struggling Snitch clasped tightly in her fist. The Hufflepuff supporters went mad with elation at the win, and it wasn't until the boys had made their way out of the stadium, up the lawn, and back into the castle that Sirius's ears had stopped ringing from all of the hysteria. He didn't mind, though. Hufflepuff had beaten the spread, and both he and James would be getting a fair bit of gold off of Davey Gudgeon that afternoon.

"You know," James started as the four of them climbed the marble staircase, "I say we celebrate tonight. Celebrate Sirius's birthday, celebrate winning a sack full of gold…"

"Filch?" Sirius asked, despite already knowing what James had been thinking.

"Phase two of the plan?" Peter added eagerly.

James nodded, grinning at the three of them. "We've got the frog spawn ready to go. Things have quieted down since Halloween, we've lured him into a false sense of security…"

They all turned to look at Remus, expecting some sort of dissenting opinion, but he merely shrugged and raised his eyebrows at the three of them. "We wouldn't want him to get complacent, now would we?"

"That's the spirit, Moony," Sirius said, clapping Remus on the back. "We'll head back up to the dormitory, finish strategizing before lunch, then –"

"Sirius! Hey, Sirius!"

They all paused as they reached the top of the staircase and looked back at the call. Hurrying up the steps behind them, a folded piece of parchment clutched in his hand, was Regulus. Sirius stared as his brother approached, feeling both curious and suspicious. He and Regulus tended to have nothing to do with one another while at school.

"Hi," Regulus said once he had reached them at the top of the staircase, giving a hesitant half-smile to the group.

"Hi," Sirius replied, glancing back down toward the entrance hall, but, surprisingly, he could see no other Slytherins lurking about. It was a rare sight indeed to find Regulus not surrounded by his group of friends.

"Er, can I talk to you? It won't take long," Regulus asked, looking somewhat nervous.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, okay," he said slowly, before exchanging a quick look with James and saying, "I'll catch you up in a minute."

His three friends started up the corridor, while Sirius and Regulus shuffled off to the side and out of the way of a pack of grumbling Ravenclaws. Leaning his shoulder against the stone wall, Sirius looked expectantly at his brother.

"Well," Regulus started, fidgeting with the parchment in his hand, "erm, happy birthday?"

His inflection made it seem more like a question than anything else, and Sirius raised an eyebrow, surprised that Regulus had even remembered.

"Thanks?" Sirius said, mimicking the odd inflection.

"Right," said Regulus, looking around the corridor distractedly. "Right, well the thing is," he took a deep breath and looked back at Sirius, "it's just that Mother has been asking a lot of questions lately. About you. And your mates."

Sirius sighed and turned so that his back was flush against the wall. "Yeah? What does she want to know?"

"She's still asking about Potter, you know, in every letter she sends me. It's getting rather stale." His fingers pulled at the corner of the folded parchment he was holding, and Sirius's eyes were drawn down to it.

"Is that a letter from her, then?" he asked his brother, nodding toward the parchment. Regulus nodded. "Let me read it," Sirius told him, making a swipe for the parchment, but Regulus ducked his arm quickly and stepped backward.

"No," said Regulus, now looking fretful. "It's not all about you, you know. It's private!"

Sirius tried again to grab the letter unsuccessfully. "Oh come on, if the old hag is asking after me, I at least should know what she's saying."

"Don't call her that!" Regulus tried to dance backwards away from Sirius's hand, but Sirius was too quick for him. He grabbed his little brother's arm and twisted it around awkwardly until Regulus cried out and ceded the letter.

"Ha!"

"Git," Regulus muttered, rubbing at his twisted arm, but he made no attempt to steal the letter back.

Sirius flicked the parchment open and leaned against the wall once more to read it.

 _"My Darling Regulus,_

 _We have been assured by our contacts within the Department of Magical Games and Sports that they will be holding our tickets for next summer's World Cup, as you have requested. Top box, of course, and we've already booked lodging as well, so we won't be left in tents like filthy Muggle squatters._

 _All the same, your last letter has fallen on furious ears. Imagine our outrage at you – a Black – not making the Quidditch team when, no doubt, you were as qualified on the pitch as any in your House. It is of our mind that this Captain – this Selwyn boy – is unfit for the position he holds. The Selwyns have been attempting to get back in the graces of high society ever since that scandal involving Julius and the Muggle gardener. An owl has been dispatched to them and your father has already contacted the Board of Governors. I'd expect the Selwyn brat to be rightfully kissing the hem of your robes and begging your forgiveness any day now, Darling."_

Sirius glanced up at his brother, whose eyes were turned downward, watching his foot move back and forth over the stone floor. He had not heard that Regulus tried out for the Quidditch team and was slightly surprised by the news. Prior to Hogwarts, they only had the chance to fly when they would visit their Uncle Alphard in the country; he supposed Regulus had always been more interested in the sport than he himself was, but enough to try out for the team? Sirius frowned slightly and went back to the letter.

Unfortunately, as the majority of the page continued in the same simpering, aristocratic vein as the first section, Sirius had difficulty reading it without gagging. He skimmed over most of the blather until his eyes found the section he was looking for at the end, just above his mother's closing valediction.

 _"I shall leave you here, dear Regulus, with another request to keep an eye on your brother, and to report back anything you may see or hear that is worthy – particularly, with whom he is keeping company these days. Does he still associate with the Potter boy? What of the half-blood you mentioned, or the Pettigrew child? (Nasty stock, those Pettigrews.) The Potters are of great interest to us, as they have secluded themselves intently from much of the high circles in recent decades, and we would like to better assess their appeals on certain matters. Narcissa claims that the boy seems to have little interest outside of causing trouble, and no doubt that is where he and your brother find common ground, but Narcissa's head has been elsewhere of late as she nears the end of her schooling, and I look to you, Darling, to keep me apprised._

 _We have enclosed a handful of Galleons for your use. Your father sends his regards._

 _Mother"_

"Well," Sirius started when he had finished reading, "if it's not too much trouble, _Darling_ , I'd prefer you not keep anything on me, much less your eye."

Regulus looked up as Sirius thrust the parchment back into his hand.

"Sod off," he mumbled at the gibe. "Did you see what she said about the World Cup, though? We'll be able to go again, it sounds like. I wasn't sure, what with it being so far away and all…"

"Big deal," said Sirius, unconcerned with the next summer's World Cup.

Regulus did not acknowledge the response. He seemed to be wavering about something, but then he added very quickly, "I want you to tell me what to tell her. I'm sick of her asking me about your mates."

"You want _me_ to tell _you_ what to tell _her_?" Sirius repeated, skeptical. "You mean you'll actually tell her what I want you to?"

Regulus shuffled his feet and glanced around the corridor before meeting his brother's gaze again. "I don't give a lick about James Potter, and even when you got back from staying with him last summer, she wouldn't give it a rest, but you were too…you didn't give her straight answers. I think she's going mad – I have to tell her _something_ , so please, just tell me what to do."

Sirius blinked. He had indeed been brushing off his mother's questions about James since she had started asking them almost a year ago. They were always pointed and prodding, and he knew that if he had any hope of continuing to see James over holidays, he could not tell her the truth.

"Tell her what she wants to hear, then," Sirius said after a pause. "Tell her that of course the Potters care about blood status, they're proper purebloods, after all. Tell her James and I are such good mates because we commiserate about being stuck surrounded by Muggle-borns all the time."

Regulus looked at him strangely, but Sirius did not wait for a reply or exchange any farewell before starting up the corridor. He was several paces away when he heard his brother's correction. "Mudbloods, you mean."

There was a brief hitch in his step, but then Sirius glanced over his shoulder and nodded at his brother as he continued walking. "Right, sounds good, you'll tell her, yeah? It'll keep her off your back."

Not even waiting for a response, Sirius turned down the next corridor and out of sight. A long sigh escaped his lips as he strolled along with a quick gait, and he tried not to dwell on the decision he had just made to condemn James to his family's distorted ideals just so that he could have decent holidays. Though James himself had told Sirius on several occasions to voice this very lie, it felt dirty somehow. It felt almost treasonous.

It felt like it had the potential to backfire. Badly.

He made short work of the trek up to the common room and spotted his friends immediately at a corner table, where they were still clad in their cloaks and scarves from the match. It seemed they had only just beaten Sirius back up to the tower.

"What'd Regulus want?" James asked as Sirius sat down in the chair next to him.

"Apparently my dear old mum's been asking about the Potters again."

A brief look of surprise crossed James's features before it disappeared under a snort. "I'm starting to think your mum's a bit obsessed with me, mate. What, is she trying to marry me off to one of your cousins or something?"

"You know," Sirius said, pulling the crimson scarf from around his neck and pondering this suggestion, "I wouldn't put it past her. Sorry for you, though, as Narcissa's a stuck-up cow and Bella's mad as a clabbert. Given the choice, I'd take a clabbert over either of them."

"So what'd you tell your brother?" Peter asked, looking back and forth between Sirius and James.

Sirius drew his mouth into a thin line and glanced pointedly at James. "Told him he should tell her that you're a good little pureblood and that we commiserate about being surrounded by Muggle-borns all the time."

Remus frowned at him. "Won't she find out you're lying? Won't she be angry?"

"She's always angry about _something._ " Sirius shrugged and then leaned in conspiratorially. "Besides, I'll come up with a cover if she finds out. In case you haven't noticed, Moony, I'm a good liar."

"It's brilliant," said James, pulling a thread loose from his scarf in a distracted sort of way. "Now you can come to my house again for Christmas hols."

Sirius grinned, burying any concerns he had about the whole situation beneath his elation at the idea of another Christmas at the Potters'. "If you say so."

James stood up suddenly and looked around at them all. "Come on, let's dump our cloaks in the room and get to strategizing. I've Quidditch practice this afternoon, so we'll need to make quick work of it to have everything straightened out by tonight."

They all nodded and followed James across the common room toward the staircase. Sirius's eyes were drawn to the couches by the fire, where all five third-year girls were huddled. Goomer, also still bundled in his cloak, seemed to be having a whispered conversation with Raeanne, who looked unruffled and almost as if she were on the verge of laughter. Mary sat next to her, fidgeting nervously with her wand; Gin lounged sideways in the armchair across from them, her hand speeding across what appeared to be a long letter; Lily and Adin were on the floor next to the hearth, and Sirius was surprised to find that both girls were staring back at them unabashedly. Sirius grinned at them before turning up the boys' staircase behind his friends.

He knew something was wrong when James opened the door to their dormitory, as both Peter and Remus froze on the steps just ahead of him, blocking Sirius's path.

"What in the name of Merlin's sodding…"

James's oath trailed off in a flabbergasted diffusion, and the other three craned their necks to see what its motivation had been, but James remained in the doorway, blocking their view.

"Oh you've got to be…oh, this is rich, just bloody rich…"

"What is it?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Move, will you?"

Slowly, James stepped forward into the dormitory and the others followed, gaping at the sight that greeted them. It was as if a powder blue explosion had taken place in the room. Every wall, from floor to ceiling, was plastered with posters of the same young, attractive wizard, waving and winking from his broomstick, and dressed unmistakably in the pale azure robes of the Appleby Arrows. The four boys surveyed the room in wide-eyed, stunned fascination, as if they had stepped into some other, unexpected dimension instead of their own dormitory.

"Who _is_ it?" Remus asked quietly, his round eyes focused on one of the posters on which the wizard was performing a handstand atop his speeding broomstick.

"Cuffe," James growled. He seemed beyond words for a moment, and then expounded, "Jedidiah _Bleeding_ Cuffe." He unglued his feet from the floor and strode to the nearest poster, ran his fingertips over the top edge of it, and attempted to tear it down. It did not budge. He moved his hands to the bottom, then the sides, trying to work his fingers behind the glossy picture, but was unable to find any sort of hold on it. He stepped back and then turned to look at Sirius, incredulous. "You don't think…there's no way they'd have the brass to…"

"Permanent Sticking Charm?" Sirius offered, trying to quell the pull of laughter that was tugging at his lips. The others gaped at him.

"No way," said Remus, shaking his head as if he had never heard of such a mad idea. "No one would _permanently_ deface the school just for a silly prank on us."

Sirius shrugged, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the poster that hung directly above Remus's bedside table. _"Diffindo!"_ Nothing. He bit his lip, thinking. _"Abducia!"_ Still nothing. James also had his wand out and was waving it with broad flourishes, but to no effect. He had just tried unsuccessfully to transfigure one of the posters into a harmless playing card when Goomer appeared in the doorway, gawking around at the sight that greeted him.

"What the…"

"Welcome to the new Jed Cuffe fan club, Goomer," quipped Sirius, again suppressing the amusement from his features. "Care for a membership badge?"

James pointed a finger at Sirius. "Don't joke. This is _not_ funny."

But the incredulous expression on Goomer's face and the authoritarian sternness of James's command was too much for Sirius, and a breathy guffaw burst forth before he could stop it. Peter, too, started laughing, Remus bit at his lip to keep his smile subdued, Goomer continued to gaze around with the same shocked look on his face, and James started pacing, glaring at the lot of them.

"This is _not funny_! Cuffe…this nauseating blue all over our room…stop _laughing_ …those sneaky wenches…"

And without another word, James strode from the room and hurried down the staircase, the others following in his wake. The girls had not moved from their seats near the fire, and all but Gin looked up at the boys as they approached.

"Hi Potter," Lily said, a broad smile on her face as she blinked up at James. "Something bothering you?"

" _You!_ " James said loudly. Several nearby Gryffindors turned to stare. "You're a shifty little devil, Evans. This has your cheek all over it."

Lily and Adin both stood up from their spots on the floor, Lily looking very pleased with herself and Adin rubbing at the back of her neck in a way that signaled that she had not wanted to be a part of the plan at all. Lily dusted off her robes and then crossed her arms over her chest. She stared James down. "Prove it."

"No – wait a minute," said Goomer, leaning over Raeanne so that their faces were level and narrowing his eyes. "I knew there was something going on. You _never_ miss Quidditch matches. This was you! Raeanne Eloise Muller, what would your mother say?" Raeanne just grinned innocently into his face. Next to her, Mary was determinedly not meeting anyone's eye, a guilty, uncomfortable expression on her flushed visage. Sirius glanced at Gin, whose quill was still moving across the parchment in her lap, her ink pot resting precariously on her bent knee. Her disregard of the entire situation was too direct, too obvious, and suddenly, Sirius realized something.

"It was all of them," he told the group. "All five of these witches had a hand in this deviousness. Let me think for a moment." Everyone stared at him and he looked around at the girls one by one, a light chuckle slipping from his lips. "We all know who the mastermind was." He turned to Lily. "Titchy over here has been waiting to pull one over on us for ages. Don't deny it, Evans." Lily arched an eyebrow at him but remained silent, her arms still crossed over her chest. Sirius turned to Raeanne. "Muller provided the ammunition, that much is obvious. She wanted to show up James for trashing on Appleby, and she wanted to get back at Goomer for telling the world she fancies that ponce Jed Cuffe. Maybe a bit heavy-handed, Muller, your subtlety could use some work."

Raeanne snorted. "Says the bloke who set a load of caipora loose on the Halloween feast."

Sirius ignored her and turned now to Adin, who appeared to be trying to conceal her mortification with an inexperienced look of faux-innocence. Sirius grinned. "Balini, you didn't want in on this. I can tell because you have the same expression on your face that Remus usually has when we force him to do something he's not keen on. You were the financier, were you not? No doubt a rush order on all of those posters would have cost a shiny Sickle. Way to put all that old pureblood gold to good use, Adin." The girl in question flushed and tossed her hair haughtily, but Sirius had already moved on to Mary, who was sitting stock-still and avoiding everyone's eye.

"Macdonald would have been your researcher. She's the swottiest of you lot, best at Charms isn't she, so she probably would have also been the one to perform some of the trickier wandwork. Permanent Sticking Charms aren't third-year-level magic, and there also had to at least be a few duplication charms used to cover all the walls like you did. Impressive Macdonald, Flitwick would be proud…"

"Permanent Sticking Charms?" Goomer repeated, wide-eyed and horrified. "You mean, we're going to have to live with those things hanging in our room forever?"

"You wouldn't," James said to Lily, whose lips were still quirked in an insolent smirk. "You wouldn't deface the school like that, no way…"

"The professors will find out!" Goomer argued with no one in particular. "If it's permanent, we won't be able to hide that forever!"

"And that leaves Gin," Sirius continued as though there had been no interruption, stepping over to the chair where Gin sat so that his shadow fell across the sheet of parchment she was still scribbling on. She looked up at the intrusion as if she had not even noticed there was a conversation going on around her.

"Can I help you?" she asked innocently, capping and removing the ink pot from her knee before sitting up straight. She glanced around at her classmates, and despite the closed expression, Sirius noticed a faint blush creeping up her neck and he smirked triumphantly.

"You're the wild card," he said to her. "And I can't quite figure out the role you must have played in all this."

"Well," she said slowly, taking a deep, solemn breath, "I guess I'm the insurance."

"The what?"

She blew on her parchment lightly and then blotted the letters with her finger, inspecting it to confirm the ink was dry before rolling it into a tight scroll. Following this demonstration, she stood and stretched before looking Sirius in the eye.

"The insurance," she repeated. Everyone stared at her, and Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Or the one with the idea for the insurance, anyhow. You see, James is right. No one in their right mind would _permanently_ vandalize the school like that, it's just not sporting. It's not a Permanent Sticking Charm, it's a Guarded Sticking Charm. The posters need a password to unstick."

"You're taking the piss," James said. "A Guarded Sticking Charm? I'll eat my broom if that's even a real spell."

But Sirius thought instantly of their password-protected Animagi books and found the idea of a Guarded Sticking Charm to be incredibly likely.

"Let's just say, _hypothetically_ , that you're right, Black," said Lily, exuding a confidence and mischievousness that made it quite evident that none of this was hypothetical. "Let's imagine that Gin came up with the idea for insurance. Maybe those posters will stay up on your walls until we leave Hogwarts. Or maybe, if _some people_ –" She looked pointedly at James. "– stop pestering us about food fights and illegal potions and anything and everything one can find to pester us about, the password might be supplied to you at the end of the school year."

"But," continued Raeanne, looking positively giddy, " _hypothetically,_ only one of us would know the password. And none of you boys know which one of us that is. And if anything foul should befall any of us – if any pranks are played, for instance, or if anybody who shouldn't be there steps foot in our dormitory, you see – that password won't see the light of day for another four years."

Gin was now packing her quill, ink, and scroll neatly into her bag. She slung it over her shoulder before looking around at the other girls. "Right, I'm famished. Anyone fancy walking down to lunch?"

All four of the other witches agreed eagerly and followed her out of the portrait hole, Raeanne squeezing Goomer's elbow jokingly as she passed by. The boys stared as the portrait hole swung shut and then a clamber of high-pitched laughter was heard from outside of it. Without a word, Goomer stumped away and up the staircase, no doubt to go inspect the vandalized room more closely. The Marauders were left alone in front of the fire, staring at one another in amazement. James, in particular, looked like he had been hit in the back of the head with a Bludger. He sat down heavily on the vacated sofa and ran a distracted hand through his unruly hair. Sirius sank down next to him and stared into the fire, a goofy grin taking up residence on his face.

"I think I'm in love," he said airily. They all turned and gaped at him.

" _What_?" James yelped. "With who?"

"With any of them," Sirius answered, his grin now turning into chortles. "With all of them. _Insurance_ , I tell you, it's so bloody brilliant I can't even be angry." He was laughing fully now, and the others watched him with wary expressions, until both Remus and Peter broke and joined in. A sharp snort by James was followed by a few exasperated chuckles and a shove to Sirius's shoulder.

"What are we going to do?" Peter asked between giggles. "We're not going to hex them or anything, are we?"

"I'm not hexing any of those girls," Remus said at once, looking positively alarmed at the idea.

"Yeah, you heard what they said," James agreed. "If we go after any of them, we'll be staring at Jed Cuffe before bed every night until we finish our N.E.W.T.s."

"We'll find something to cover those posters with," Sirius said, settling down from his bout of laughter. He stood up and stretched. "Let's get some lunch, shall we? And then we'll get back to Filch. We can't let those tricky witches derail all of our plans. There's a war on, after all."

And as they all paraded across the common room and through the portrait hole, James nudged Sirius in the ribs and grinned widely at him. "Insurance," he repeated, shaking his head in wonderment.

Sirius laughed again. "Bloody brilliant."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, James relented in his constant badgering of Lily – distracted both by the ongoing war with Filch and his preparations for the upcoming Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match – and an affable truce seemed to be struck between the boys and the girls. The girls reveled in their victory and in their own ingenuity, and all of the boys would be caught at one point or another watching them wondrously, as if they were some new species that had just been discovered living in the back garden. The Monday after the Jed Cuffe prank, Sirius slipped Gin another note after Potions, and the two spent nearly a quarter of an hour together that evening, hidden in the long shadows of the trophy room.

The jokes on Filch became wilder and wilder throughout the month, beginning with frog spawn graffiti splashed on the corridor wall across from his office every morning for a week ("We will not stand for this tyranny!" "Down with the caretaker!" "Injustice, thy home is Hogwarts!"). A few days later, lessons were disrupted thoroughly when all of the suits of armor in the third floor corridor mobilized into a battalion and began chasing Mrs. Newton through the dungeons. Two mornings after that, the students in the Great Hall were roused from their breakfasts by much banging and shouting from Filch's private quarters, where the beleaguered caretaker had been trapped by a hearty stone wall which concealed the door to his rooms and which had evidently been constructed at some point during the night. All the while, a couple of pesky caipora had still not been apprehended from the Halloween debacle, and every few days, shrieks could be heard as one might fly through the corridors or the library, wreaking havoc on unsuspecting students.

Everyone, from the students to Filch to Dumbledore himself, seemed to know exactly which students were the cause of such mayhem, but as none of Sirius, James, Remus or Peter had been caught in a moment of wrongdoing, no punishment was just. This seemed to unhinge Filch even further, and by the last week in November, he had begun muttering to himself in the corridors and rapping credulous students on the shins with the handle of an old worn mop.

The last Sunday in November found Sirius alone and huddled happily on the ledge of roof that hung above the third-year boys' dormitory window. He and James had discovered the spot earlier in the term and Sirius had wasted little time in transfiguring some tied bed sheets into a rather dependable ladder that hung near the window and allowed him the ability to access the ledge without need of a broomstick. Remus had turned rather fretful at the discovery and at Sirius's insistence that they all visit the ledge whenever time allowed for it; Peter shook so intensely on his first trip up the ladder that he was unable to descend and James had had to fetch his broomstick for Peter to fly down on; James enjoyed the spot, but seemed to grow bored of the view and had not taken to the location with quite the gusto of his best mate. Goomer either did not notice the tucked away ladder, or was clever enough to not question it.

Sirius, though, loved the view of the grounds and the mountains in the distance, loved having a spot that they could call all their own, loved performing just enough of a Warming Charm to still feel the cold wind on his face, and loved the thrill of the ladder, the danger that lurked in one missed step or one slipped rung.

He had left his Muggle Studies essay until the last minute, and was now regretting it, as he sat poring over his copy of _Muggledom in a Magical World_ and trying to wrap his mind around the concept of something called a "cinema." Sighing and admitting defeat, Sirius snapped the book shut and stretched his stiff muscles. A few snowflakes landed on the cover, melting into peaked droplets, and, noting glumly that his Warming Charm was fading fast, he tucked the book in his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and descended the wobbly ladder. The dormitory – which now had a few more suitable Gryffindor banners and Wasps posters covering a portion of the Appleby blue – was empty when he pulled himself through the window, so he headed for the stairs, hoping to find either Remus or James in the common room. The former, he supposed, might be able to explain the concept to him; the latter, he reasoned, would allow him to copy his own paper. Either would do.

Unfortunately, none of his friends could be spotted in the bustling common room. Remus and Peter had retreated to the library many hours before and did not appear to have resurfaced. James, who had been dour ever since the Gryffindor Quidditch team's loss to Slytherin the prior morning, had disappeared to sulk on his own. It had been his first defeat as a member of the team, and his innate over-confidence and extreme competitiveness had rendered him rather dejected by the result. Sirius was just considering going to track James down when he spotted Lily and Gin working quietly at a table in the corner and he was overcome by a more agreeable idea.

"Evans," he said amiably as he pulled a chair over to their table and swung himself onto it, so that his arms rested on the bridge of the backrest. Both girls looked up at him curiously. "You're Muggle-born."

Lily blinked at him and then bowed her head once again over her copy of _Brethren of Magical Beings and Their Creature Comforts_. "You've known me for more than two years, Black." She pulled what appeared to be a candy bean from a small parcel on the table and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly before adding, "And I know for a fact that you are not just now realizing that I'm Muggle-born."

Sirius turned to Gin, who was watching him curiously. "Gin," he greeted, nodding toward her.

"Sirius," she responded in turn. She gave him a small smile and he was distracted for a moment by the memory of their time in the trophy room. He cleared his throat before focusing back on Lily.

"Right, I mean, yeah, I know you're Muggle-born, but I was wondering…" He reached below his chair into his bag and pulled out _Muggledom in a Magical World._ Lily's eyes flickered up to the book as he dropped it onto the table. "Have you ever been to – to a _cinema_ before?" The words had come out more hesitant and childlike than he had intentioned, so he quirked his mouth into a winning smile when Lily looked back up at him, surprised.

"A cinema?" she repeated, clearly under the impression that he was playing some sort of joke on her.

"Yes," he said, flipping the book open to the page that showed a large screen with hand-drawn, moving pictures. "Am I not saying it properly? Sin-eee-mah?"

Lily bit her lip, perhaps to keep from laughing, and if she were not a girl, Sirius would have given her a quick cuff to the arm in response to the patronizing look.

"You're saying it right." She marked her page in her own book and then leaned her forearms onto the table, now giving him her full attention. "Cinema. Yes, I've been to the cinema before. I've been dozens of times. It's a common pastime for Muggles and it's still good fun, even now I know I'm not a Muggle."

"Well I don't get it," Sirius announced, clearly insinuating that the issue was not with his intelligence, but with the ludicrous idea of a cinema.

Now Lily's smile was nothing but kind. "What don't you get?"

"This!" he said, flipping a page and jamming a finger toward a drawing of a complicated metal contraption. "It says here in the caption that it's an eight millimeter film reel projector, but I know these – these cinemas – they run off of _electricity_ , and we've already learned about that, about wires and plugs and volts. But this here – er – film reel, it looks to me like a camshaft gear in a motorbike engine, and I'm learning all about motorbike engines now, you see, and they don't run on electricity at all. They run on _petrol_ , which you get out of a pump, not a plug. And," he added, barely taking a breath before flipping the page back and spinning the book around so that Lily could look at it right-side-up, "it says that these filmy-things show real people on them, like in photographs, but these aren't real people at all. These look like comic people, like in _The Adventures of Dino Danger_ , which no wizard in his right mind would think was actual people. Somebody _drew_ those comics, and it's downright barmy to suggest otherwise."

He finished his rant with a single head nod that suggested no one would ever fault this impressive logic. Lily's eyebrows had crept so far up her forehead that they had all but disappeared beneath her hairline, and Gin was smiling at him with an amused twinkle in her eyes, having paused in labeling what appeared to be a sketch of a kneazle.

"Let me get this right," said Lily. "You aren't even sure how to pronounce 'cinema,' but you know what a _camshaft gear_ is? _I_ don't even know what a camshaft gear is."

"I'm still trying to figure out how it works in the engine," he told her, frustrated by the thought, "but I know what one looks like and it looks a lot like this." He pointed again at the illustration of the projector.

"Well I'm no expert in the mechanics of film projectors," said Lily, moving her nose closer to the book and studying it for a moment. "I'd say that circular bit there is the reel, which I think has the film tape spun around it."

"The film tape?" Sirius spun the book back around so he could study it again. "Like Spellotape?"

Lily shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "Er, no. The film tape is what all the tiny little photographs are stored on. And then the reel runs it through very quickly, so it looks like everything is moving. Muggle photographs don't move on their own like wizarding photographs do."

"Can we take a step back," Gin cut in, alight with mirth, "and revisit this revelation that you read _Dino Danger_ comics?"

"Er," Sirius faltered. "Maybe once or twice. Ages ago. Regulus was the big Dino fan in our house, and he'd yammer on about them and shove the new issues up under my nose to show me the pictures." He pursed his lips at both of their amused expressions and rolled his eyes. "Can we get back to the point here? So the tape that goes around the camshaft reel…"

"Just 'reel,'" Lily corrected.

"Right, this tape goes around the just-reel that looks like a camshaft gear and has little frozen photographs on it and when they all go in sequence, it makes moving pictures, right?"

Lily nodded and popped another bright red bean into her mouth. She offered one to Gin, who declined, but did not present the bag to Sirius, who was drumming his fingertips on his forearms, still crossed lazily on the back of the chair.

"So what do they do?" he asked her.

"What do what do?"

"The photographs? If they can't move on their own, and they only are giving the illusion that they can move because there's a bunch of them flashing past faster than a speeding top-line Comet…well, what do they do? Do they talk to you like a portrait does?"

"Well, no, they don't talk to the audience usually. The characters talk to one another to create stories. Have you ever been to the theatre? It's play-acting, like that."

Unwillingly, a childhood trip with his parents and cousins to a stuffy old theatre off of Knockturn Alley emerged in his mind – gaudy lettering spelling out _"The Wants of the Wicked"_ across a marquis and a drama about an evil, Muggle girl who had tricked her suitor into believing she was a witch in order to steal his magic, culminating in a horde of angry Muggles burning both of the lovers at the stake. The wizard had survived, while the Muggle girl died in a harrowing scene of exaggerated wailing. Sirius had been eight-years-old. Regulus, only seven himself, had found the dangerous end of their father's wand that night when he had dared to sympathize with the murdered Muggle. His nightmares had brought him to Sirius's bed for several nights thereafter, and it was the one time Sirius could remember allowing his terrified younger brother to kip with him with no reproach.

"Sure," Sirius said easily, fashioning his expression into one of impassivity to conceal the torment of memories that had just surfaced. "So it's like the theatre, is it? Sounds dead boring."

"Oh it's not, it's great fun," interjected Gin. Sirius spun toward her.

"You go to these cinemas too? What is this, some sort of club or something? You're not even Muggle-born!"

She grinned at him and shrugged. "But my mum is, and she loves the pictures, and she's mad about all those old movie stars, and especially the musicals. She took me to see _Caberet_ last year –"

"Oooh, I like musicals too!" interrupted Lily, now looking much more excited about the conversation. " _Singin' in the Rain_ , and _The Sound of Music_ , and _Guys and Dolls_ …"

" _Singin' in the Rain_ is one of Mum's favorites." Gin wrinkled her nose in an obvious disagreement of taste. "I'm not keen on all the dancing."

"Dancing?" Sirius repeated, looking back and forth between the two witches. "There's _dancing_ in these things?"

"Sometimes," said Lily. "Sometimes there's singing and dancing, but usually not. It depends on what kind of film it is – if it's a musical, or a romance, or a children's film, or a spy film like James Bond…"

Groaning, Sirius sunk his forehead against his crossed arms in frustration – there was no way he would finish a sixteen-inch essay by the following morning at this rate. Perhaps he would be copying James's paper after all. If only the assigned topic had been on cars or motorbike engines instead of silly dalliances like cinema, he could have scribbled something down in an hour. He looked back up at the girls with a sigh when he realized that they were still prattling on.

"…for Sean Connery," Gin was saying. "I'm not sure I see it, but she says he's dashing…"

"My mum says the films are unseemly and won't let us near them." Lily tossed another candy bean into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Though I think Petunia snuck into _Live and Let Die_ with her mates last summer…"

"I've only ever seen one," Gin said, accepting a bean herself this time when Lily offered again. "The one where he finds the starkers girl painted in gold –"

This got Sirius's attention. "Starkers? People go round starkers in these film thingys?"

"You should write about that in your essay, Black," Lily giggled. "Title it 'Muggles in the Buff.' Surely Lumpkin would give you full marks."

"Don't give me any ideas, Evans, or you'll be cited as a source." He paused and then added solemnly, as if making a profound statement, "You know, if there are girls going starkers, perhaps I should give the cinema a chance. You don't see _that_ in the theatre." Gin snorted but said nothing as she picked up her quill and turned her attention back to her drawing. Sirius took a closer look at the parchment and frowned at it. "Why are you drawing a kneazle?"

"It's our Care of Magical Creatures assignment," Gin said, flipping through her textbook before settling on the proper section. "We have to do a sketch and label it along with our essay."

"Right," said Lily, shoving Sirius's Muggle Studies book back toward him and settling into her own once again. "And as much as I've enjoyed this foray into film discussion, we've got to finish this kneazle project or we'll be up all night." She squinted down at the text and positioned her quill above her parchment. "Now we've to list the ways one can track or lure a kneazle…"

"Here's the passage," Gin told her, pointing to a paragraph in the book. "Page 179…"

Lily flipped to it and began reading aloud. "Due to their unusually high level of intelligence, kneazles are not easily enamored of or distracted by the prospect of food, like many of their feline counterparts. While the kneazle may treat happily on a helping of doxy eggs or be enticed by a portion of lobalug meat, the scent that most captivates a kneazle is that of kneazle-nip, a flora first cultivated by Michaelea Herristrong to keep her breeding kneazles from coupling at all hours of the night. A mutation of the herb _Nepeta cataria,_ kneazle-nip is of the greatest attraction to kneazles, and can be downright magnetic to normal felines, which have been known to track the scent from more than 200 meters –"

"My Uncle Alphard used to have a stray kneazle that roamed about his country house," Sirius interrupted idly. "It was a nosy old thing, always trying to steal into the house to have a poke around in our…" He faded off and straightened in his chair, a stroke of brilliance bolting through him and leaving him momentarily stunned.

"Er, are you okay, Black?" Lily asked, waving her hand in front of his frozen face. A gleeful laugh erupted from his mouth and within a second, he was standing and throwing his Muggle Studies book back into his bag.

"Thanks for the chat," he said, leaning down to swipe one of Lily's candy beans before striding toward the portrait hole. "And I'll remember your suggestion for the title of my essay, Evans," he called back to her. "'Muggles in the Buff,' was it?"

He heard the sniggers of several nearby Gryffindors but he did not pause for a moment before hurrying through the portrait hole and down the seventh-floor corridor. He had no idea where James had skulked off to, but he would search the castle from dungeons to towers if necessary – the idea was too alluring, too perfect to wait another minute before taking action. Excitement and adrenaline raced through him as he bounded down the shifting staircases, eyes peeled for the telltale sight of messy black hair; if anything could pull James out of his despondency, it was the promise of a good, old-fashioned jape.

It took him almost half an hour, but he finally spotted James striding down a corridor near the hospital wing, looking not nearly as dejected as he had been earlier in the day.

"Oi, James!" Sirius called out. James turned and paused as Sirius hurried toward him, slightly out of breath. "Where've you been? I've been all over the bloody castle looking for you. You know, there should really be a way to track people round this place."

James grinned and offered Sirius a view of his shoulder as the two started walking again. His black robes were singed and torn on his right arm, from elbow nearly to the collar.

"Got into it with Wilkes and Mulciber. They were waxing poetic about Slytherin's victory yesterday," he explained at the look of questioning that Sirius had sent his way. "Both are still in the hospital wing, I'll have you know. Two against one and I'm the one who Pomfrey released first!"

He sounded triumphant, but Sirius frowned at him.

"You've been dueling without me? Sod it, I've been up in Gryffindor Tower trying to figure out my ruddy Muggle Studies essay and you've been off having all the fun."

James grinned and shrugged as they pulled back a tapestry and started up a narrow staircase. "I imagine we can find you another chance, mate. Plenty of Slytherins nearby to goad into a nice duel. Snivelly, or Lestrange, or –"

"I've had an idea," Sirius interrupted, pulling at James's elbow so that he stopped his ascent up the staircase.

"Are you going to go on again about the one where we drain the lake and fill it with custard?" joked James. "Because we're good, but we're not that good, Sirius. That one may be a tidge out of our reach."

Sirius was far too excited about his idea to respond to the sarcasm. Checking up the staircase to ensure they were alone, he glanced at his watch and then leaned in conspiratorially.

"Listen, it's half three, and the Hogsmeade shops shutter at five on Sundays. Reckon we have enough time to sneak down to the village and to the Animal Emporium before close?"

"Probably," James said, pulling idly at the gash in his sleeve and frowning down at the singed fabric. "If Peter's not with us to slow us down. Why?"

"We've got to pick up some kneazle-nip, and I'm fairly certain the Animal Emporium will carry it. Come on." Sirius clapped James on the back and hurried off, taking the steps two at a time. "I'll explain on the way."

* * *

The payoff on Sirius's idea was frustratingly delayed, and Sirius and James spent the vast majority of the following day awaiting the moment they knew was imminent. The pair had awoken earlier than usual and had sneaked into the Slytherin common room by way of the Invisibility Cloak an hour before breakfast to sprinkle minced kneazle-nip into the pockets and lining of Dexter Selwyn's best robes. While originally they had planned to target Snape, Sirius had pointed out that it might be unwise to antagonize Lily Evans' friend when she still held the power of the Jed Cuffe password over their heads, especially considering it was Lily who had sparked this particular idea in the first place. James had scowled at this, but in the end agreed that Dexter Selwyn, as the captain of the Gryffindor-beating Slytherin Quidditch team, would be a suitable replacement.

And so they had waited. At breakfast, Sirius's leg bounced anxiously beneath the table as he dug into his eggs and peppered Remus with last-minute questions about his Muggle Studies essay. James, on the other hand, spent breakfast glaring at the still-celebrating Slytherins and biting into his sausage with rather aggressive vigor. Neither boy paid much attention in Muggle Studies that morning, too intent were they on listening hard for any sounds of discord elsewhere in the castle, and they both skived off History of Magic in order to shadow Selwyn during his morning free period, hoping that the moment would arrive while they were nearby to witness the hilarity. By the time lunch arrived, both were so annoyed by the long wait that neither Peter nor Remus was brave enough to engage them in conversation.

Fortunately, the suspense was alleviated during afternoon break. The boys were just making their way to the Transfiguration corridor for their final lesson of the day when a loud commotion on the floor below them caused them to stop in their tracks. Sirius and James's eyes had only briefly met in anticipatory glee before they were off, sprinting around the corner and down a shifting staircase before skidding to a stop in the back of a gathering crowd. There seemed to be some sort of scene taking place a little farther up the corridor – indeed, there was quite a bit of yelling and hissing – and both boys jumped hastily onto the plinth of a stone pillar to get a better vantage point.

"Geroff, geroff me you sodding creature…mother of…ARGHH!"

Dexter Selwyn was standing in the middle of the corridor, his dark hair disheveled and his robes in disarray as he flailed about, swatting at an attacking Mrs. Newton. The cat was darting in and out around him, lunging at his robes with vicious determination, spitting and digging her claws into the prefect's legs. Both Selwyn's school bag and wand were lying uselessly on the ground, and just as Selwyn made a grab at the latter, the cat aimed a hearty swipe at his face, drawing a clawed gash right across his pale cheek.

"Stand still, stand still, Dexter, and let me get a good aim at it!" shrilled a panicked voice from the front of the crowd. Narcissa Black emerged, pointing her wand at the cat, but Selwyn seemed not to have heard her, so intent was he on flailing about in an attempt to kick the frenzied creature. Unceremoniously, his kick went awry and landed with a crack against Narcissa's shin.

Narcissa let out a shriek and crumpled to the ground, groping at her injured leg. From his spot on the plinth, Sirius could not contain his snigger – he had been dreaming of kicking Narcissa for years. A few brave students toward the front of the crowd hurried forward to pull Narcissa out of harm's way, as Selwyn's scrambling had become even wilder and both he and the cat whirled around, the cat pouncing and hissing and the Slytherin swatting and cursing.

"Geroff…ow…you mangy…will someone stun this damn thing or what?" Selwyn was raving and lashing out now with all his limbs at Mrs. Newton, who lunged again and sank her claws painfully into his thigh.

Over the commotion, a distinct wheezing could be heard from the far end of the corridor, and both James and Sirius grinned triumphantly when Argus Filch emerged into view, surveying the scene with appalled confusion.

"My sweet, my sweet, what is the meaning of this? Stop…hold still you brutal boy, you'll only hurt her…stop!"

Neither the cat nor the Slytherin seemed to hear the caretaker at all and he hurried forward, trying to grab her as she darted and pounced. There was a look of utter fury on Selwyn's face now, and for a moment Sirius thought the boy might attack the caretaker, but the next second, a familiar voice cut through the corridor.

" _Stupefy!_ "

It was McGonagall, emerging from an intersecting corridor and pushing her way through the crowd toward where Selwyn stood panting, his robes tattered and his face scratched, the stunned cat now frozen at his feet.

"What did you do to her?" cried Filch, diving forward to scoop up the cat. "Mrs. Newton! Mrs. Newton! What've you done? You've killed my cat!"

"I haven't, Argus," said McGonagall sternly. She glanced around at the crowd of students, eyes lingering for a second too long on the pair of boys by the pillar. "She's only been stunned. I shall wake her as soon as Mr. Selwyn here has taken leave to change his robes."

"My robes!" Selwyn shouted. "That mad cat attacked me out of nowhere, look at my robes!" Shaking in either fury or humiliation, he turned on Filch. "I'll have your head for this, you miserable old fool – yours and your bleeding cat's!" He did not make a particularly imposing sight, with his shredded robes and gashed cheek, and Filch just leered at the boy while cuddling the unconscious cat against him.

"That's quite enough, Selwyn," said McGonagall. She inhaled deeply through her nose and – much to Sirius's discomfort – her eyes seemed to flicker toward the pillar once more. "Head to the Slytherin common room at once to change your robes. I'll notify Professor Slughorn that you will be a few minutes late to Potions and I shall ensure the house elves take care to mend and launder your robes immediately." Selwyn did not seem to find this a just response to his suffering, but after a moment's glaring, he gave a curt nod and strode off toward the dungeons. McGonagall and Filch were now talking in low voices and the spectators began to disperse, laughing and chattering happily.

Peter and Remus were waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

"Why didn't you let us help with this prank?" Peter muttered to James, who shushed him and looked around hastily. None of them spoke again until a few minutes later, once they were safely seated in the back of the Transfiguration classroom. Peter and Remus, who were sitting directly in front of James and Sirius, turned around in their chairs and looked at the pair expectantly.

"Because we can't all fit under the cloak anymore," James explained under his breath. "And anyway, the two of you were holed up in the library all day yesterday."

"And who are we to disrupt your ardent studies?" Sirius added. Glancing around to guarantee that no one else was paying them any attention, he reached into his bag and allowed Peter and Remus a glimpse of a small, sealed vial containing a powdered, moss-colored substance. "But look – we've still got plenty of kneazle-nip to go round. If you really want in, Peter, we can let you and Remus lace Mulciber's pants tomorrow…"

James, too, pulled a corked vial out of his pocket and spun it around in his fingers before holding it out to Peter expectantly. Peter's head jerked around at the full classroom, and he waved off the vial, not wanting to be spotted taking damning evidence. James slipped the vial back into his pocket and winked at Sirius, who bit back a laugh. They both knew that Peter would never sneak into the Slytherin dormitories with only Remus as a co-conspirator.

"I'm not sure that was the best idea, targeting a seventh year," Remus hissed at them. "If Selwyn finds out it was you two…"

"He'll what?" asked Sirius with the air of someone who knew he was untouchable. "Swat at us? Shriek like a first-year girl? Seventh year or not, do you really think Dexter Selwyn could take James and me?"

"Really Remus, he couldn't even take the cat," James sniggered.

McGonagall's entrance put a stop to their discussion, as it was wont to do. Peter and Remus swiveled back around in their chairs and – as McGonagall was looking particularly brusque at the moment – none of them even attempted to steal whispers to each other during her lecture. It was only when the class had been instructed to begin practicing transfiguring a thrush into a wireless set that Sirius and James found it safe to converse again.

"– and she definitely said the girl was starkers," Sirius told James, keeping his voice low enough to not draw McGonagall's attention. "I forget the name of the picture, though. I'm sure it was _James_ something…"

James poked his wand at the small wireless that sat on his desk, and the brown feathers that had been covering it disappeared at once. "Did she say if you could see the girl's bits or what?" he asked, clearly interested.

"She didn't mention, though it's not like that would interest _her_ now would it?" Sirius whispered another spell and the bit of beak that protruded from the wireless in front of him stretched out into a long electrical cord, complete with a three-pronged plug at the end. He grinned at it happily.

"There's a Muggle cinema in the village at home," James said, dropping his wand on his desk and leaning back in his chair, content with the extent of his work. "We can try it out over the holiday. Maybe we'll get lucky and see something good."

"Mr. Black," came a curt voice from the next row over. Sirius started and looked up as Professor McGonagall advanced toward him and James. "What is _that_?" she asked, indicating the cord, which curled over the side of Sirius's desk and brushed the ground.

"An electrical cord, Professor," he told her cheerfully. "With a plug and everything!"

McGonagall stared down at the cord, a slight wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "I believe the instructions were to transfigure your thrush into an exact replica of the wireless as illustrated in your textbook, Black. There is no cord – and certainly no _plug_ – in the illustration."

"Ah, but Professor," Sirius said, grinning up at her and noting that most of the class was now paying attention to their exchange, "this is a much-needed improvement on the wireless from the book. You see, now it can be used in the magical world _or_ the Muggle world." As if to illustrate his point, he pulled the cord between his fingers and began twirling it like a lasso.

Inhaling deeply through her nose as if steeling herself for something, McGonagall reached out and grabbed the plug to put a halt to the whipping motion. She placed it firmly on the desk and then fixed Sirius with an ominous stare. "Both you and Mr. Potter will remain behind after the lesson is over, Black."

"But Professor!" James protested. "My wireless is perfect, no plugs at all! Look…" Squinting his eyes in concentration, James plucked his wand up once more and gave his gleaming wireless a few light taps. The chorus of "Rockin' Robin" started blaring from the speakers. James grinned up at McGonagall as many of their classmates (Sirius included) started laughing.

"After class," McGonagall repeated loudly over the 'tweedle-dee-dees' coming out of the speaker. "Both of you." She waved her wand and both Sirius's cord and James's music vanished at once. "You may begin on your homework _silently_ until the rest of your classmates are finished with their transfigurations."

And with another stern look at the pair of them, she made her way over to where Adin was attempting to keep her thrush from making a daring escape. Peter gave them both an anxious look over his shoulder but Sirius merely shrugged at him. Truthfully, he had no idea why McGonagall would want him and James to remain after class. Both of their transfigurations had gone above and beyond the expected work, and while they may have merited McGonagall's exasperation, they certainly weren't worthy of reprimand. So it was with great curiosity that he and James approached their professor's desk at the end of the lesson. McGonagall glanced up at them but did not say anything until the rest of their classmates had vacated the classroom.

"Right," she said, rising from her desk and straightening her robes before fixing them again with that same piercingly stern look. "Follow me, you two. We're going to see the headmaster."

The boys stared after her in shock as she made her way toward the door, and by the time they had regained their bearings and had hurried to catch up with her, she was already striding down the corridor. Remus and Peter, who had been waiting for them outside of the classroom, gave them confused looks, to which James waved them off and Sirius ignored them, his attention focused solely on the back of McGonagall's head.

"Professor," he said, hasting to fall into step with her, "why are we going to see the headmaster?"

James now flanked McGonagall's other side, frowning at her as he hitched his bag more tightly to his shoulder. "Is this about our wireless sets, Professor?"

"Are we getting a commendation for our ingenuity? Because I'm flattered, really, Professor, but I imagine Professor Dumbledore won't be as impressed by a simple Muggle electrical cord."

McGonagall breathed in deeply, as though fighting herself for patience, before looking down at Sirius out of the corner of her eye. "Your creativity in following assigned tasks is not the issue at hand, Black."

They turned down a rickety staircase that led to the second floor and it was only after they had all fallen into a line once more that James spoke again. "Is this about our Transfiguration marks, then, Professor? About how Sirius and I are best in the year?"

"Right," added Sirius. "You're not looking to move us up a year or anything, Professor, are you? Because we're perfectly happy flying laps round all the other third years, you know."

"Absolutely," said James, bobbing his head up and down. "Don't need any more of a challenge, us. We're all set. Just the right amount of challenged."

McGonagall appeared to be ignoring them, though her lips were getting thinner and thinner with every word they spoke and a vein at her temple seemed to have grown a pulse. She said nothing else until she stopped in front of a grumpy-looking stone gargoyle. "Sugar Quill."

"What do you – _whoa_ ," James said, as the wall behind the gargoyle split down the middle to reveal a moving staircase.

"Ooh," said Sirius, jumping onto the staircase behind McGonagall and looking around with great interest as the wall closed with a thud behind him and James. "Is this where Dumbledore lives, Professor? We've always wondered…"

James, too, was looking around in fascination as the staircase began its slow, spiral ascent. "And 'sugar quill' is the password," he said without thinking. "Good to know, good to know…"

The crease between McGonagall's eyebrows deepened and her frown became slightly more bothered than it had been the moment before. "The password shall be changed tonight, Potter. Don't get any ideas."

The boys just grinned innocently up at her until the staircase came to an abrupt stop in front of a heavy door adorned with a brass, griffin-shaped knocker, which McGonagall proceeded to lift and knock three times. The door swung open on its own accord and, eyes wide, the two boys followed their professor into the vast circular office.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Albus Dumbledore was standing behind an enormous, claw-footed desk, and appeared to have been dictating to a handsome quill, which was perched upright on a scroll of parchment and quivering as if expecting further instruction. He was smiling serenely at the visitors, and when McGonagall snapped the door closed behind her, he vanished both the quill and the parchment with a wave of his wand.

"Unfortunately, I do not foresee this as a pleasurable visit, Professor Dumbledore." With a few flicks of her wand, she drew up two straight-backed wooden chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and nodded at the two confused boys. "Have a seat."

Sirius swallowed hard as he sat down on the uncomfortable chair and dropped his bag at his feet. He did not like the feeling that he was being put on trial, nor did he like the way Dumbledore was surveying the pair of them over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. Just as he had on the night when Dumbledore had caught them on the Quidditch pitch, Sirius got the distinct feeling that the headmaster was seeing straight through him. He averted his eyes to gaze around the office with interest. There were strange, whirring little silver instruments that sat upon spindly-legged wooden tables; next to one of the broad, arching windows stood an empty perch that Sirius supposed an owl might use; and circling the room along the walls were portraits of old, wizened witches and wizards, some of whom were peering down at the boys with interest, some of whom were snoozing against their frames.

"I don't know if you've heard, Headmaster," said McGonagall, moving to stand next to Dumbledore's desk, "but Dexter Selwyn of Slytherin had an unfortunate encounter with Mr. Filch's cat this afternoon."

"Oh I have heard about the incident, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore replied. "Mr. Filch was in here for the better part of half an hour, er, discussing it with me."

Sirius fought the instinct to glance at James, who shifted next to him. There was no way McGonagall could prove their culpability.

"Well then, that should make things easier." McGonagall waved an arm toward the two Gryffindors. "I present to you the guilty parties."

Both boys started protesting at once.

"What? You think we made Filch's mad cat attack that dolt Selwyn –"

"Us? Professor, how could you say something like that?"

"What an accusation! I'm hurt, Professor, truly…"

"That is enough." McGonagall's sharp tone was enough to shut them both up at once, though Sirius fixed his expression to suggest the utmost of innocence as he snapped his lips together. "I will give you both the chance, right now, to admit to your wrongdoing. I advise you to choose your words carefully. Lying shall not be tolerated."

James sat stock still and straight-backed as he looked McGonagall steadily in the eye, though Sirius noticed his fingers twisting the cuff of his sleeve, ever so slightly. Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the rigid chair, trying to appear casual as he bit his tongue to keep from saying anything incriminating. Dumbledore moved to sit down behind his desk, a slight frown appearing on his lips.

"Very well," McGonagall said after a moment, and Sirius's stomach flipped guiltily at the trace of disappointment on her face. " _Accio!"_ With a squirm and a yelp of surprise from James, the small vial of kneazle-nip wriggled free from his pocket and zoomed into McGonagall's hand. Both boys watched in horror as McGonagall pointed her wand now at Sirius's bag, which was lying all but forgotten on the floor next to him. " _Accio!"_ The second vial flew out of the sack and landed next to its twin, the professor's thin fingers closing around both vials.

"How did you –" Sirius began, before the realization hit him and he cut off with a shocked, _"Oh!"_

"Earlier today, someone took it upon himself to lace Dexter Selwyn's robe pockets with kneazle-nip. Mr. Selwyn was consequently attacked by no fewer than three of his classmates' pets, along with Mrs. Newton."

James stifled a snigger, but Sirius was fixated on McGonagall. "You could smell it! Because you're a cat Animagus, Professor! You could tell there was kneazle-nip in my bag and James's pocket!"

Both McGonagall and Dumbledore looked taken aback by the malapropos excitement. "The way in which I discovered your possession of the herb is not of your concern, Black –"

"You get to keep some of your animal senses, even when you're in your normal person form?" Sirius interrupted, too fascinated by this new information to care that he was in a heap of trouble. "That's brilliant, Professor, bloody brill–"

" _Language_ _Mr. Black!_ "

"Sorry, Professor _,_ " Sirius said at once, biting his bottom lip even as he grinned up at her.

"Let us get back to the matter at hand," said Dumbledore, speaking for the first time since the exchange had started. He reached out a hand and McGonagall passed him the two vials, which he examined closely. "James, Sirius – I have to admit that the evidence against you is rather damning."

James shifted again in his seat. "W-we could have that kneazle-nip for any number of reasons, sir."

"Indeed?"

Sirius nodded. "We could be studying its qualities for potion-making purposes, or for Care of Magical Creatures…"

"Neither of you is taking Care of Magical Creatures, Black," McGonagall said, her patience starting to show cracks.

"An extracurricular interest, then? We do like to go above and beyond in our studies, you know."

"Perhaps we should bring in Lupin and Pettigrew for a separate interview, Headmaster, to ensure that their stories align with Black's. Surely, if this kneazle-nip is being studied for _potion-making purposes_ , Lupin and Pettigrew could corroborate."

"I didn't say that's what we were doing, Professor," countered Sirius at once. "I just said we _could_ be doing those things –"

McGonagall closed her eyes for several long seconds before fixing them again on Sirius. "Then _what_ , exactly, _were_ you doing with the kneazle-nip?"

In the beat of silence that followed the question, both boys knew they were cornered. The least they could do was spare their friends.

"Remus and Peter didn't have anything to do with it," James said at last, his spine still straight and his chin in the air. "There's no need to get them involved."

"Well," said McGonagall slowly, "your loyalty, at least, is not suspect. So you admit, do you Mr. Potter, that you and Mr. Black have been working alone in your month-long assault on the school caretaker?"

"Now wait just a second!" James protested loudly. With an arched eyebrow from McGonagall, though, he shrank back at once. "Er, I mean, no, Professor, I'm not admitting to anything of the sort. All we've done is to lace Selwyn's robes with kneazle-nip. How should we have known Mrs. Newton would take such a shining to it?"

"As you said earlier, Professor," Sirius added, "neither of us takes Care of Magical Creatures, so it follows that _of course_ we wouldn't know what would happen."

The vein that pulsed across McGonagall's temple seemed to double in size. "The kneazle-nip is the latest in a long line of unfortunate incidents that have befallen Mr. Filch and his cat over the last few weeks. Stone walls trapping him in his office, suits of armor abandoning their posts, caipora and food fights and –"

"Now how can you blame us for the food fight, Professor?" James asked indignantly. "The whole school was involved in that, and it's not as if we started it."

McGonagall regarded them both severely before retreating to her previous tactic. "Shall we see if your friends' stories agree?"

But this time, she had no evidence on them, so the threat held less heft. "That suits of armor bit was some O.W.L level magic," Sirius said, affixing her with his most charming smile. "We're only third years, you know. Do you really think so highly of us that you believe we could pull off a Locomotor spell to that degree?"

"What I think, Black, is that if the combined energies that the pair of you put toward causing trouble were instead put toward your studies, I can only imagine what leaps in academia you could make."

The look on McGonagall's face made it clear that she had not meant the statement as a compliment, but Sirius decided to take it as one. "Thank you, Professor, that's very kind of you to say." James stifled another laugh. "Now can you tell me what other traits of your Animagus form you keep as a human? Have you got nine lives? Excellent balance? Cats have great eyesight, don't they, so then why do you wear specs?"

At this point, Dumbledore seemed to have had enough of the back and forth, as he set the vials of kneazle-nip atop his desk and then raised a hand for silence. All three parties stared at him expectantly while he leaned his elbows upon his desk and pressed his fingertips together, considering the situation.

"We have no evidence to suggest that James and Sirius are behind the series of occurrences that has transpired in recent weeks, Minerva." As he paused, Sirius let out a small breath of relief which then hitched in his throat when Dumbledore turned his gaze again toward the two of them. "However, one of the benefits of the headmaster's post is that in determining punishments, my decision can be as proportionate to the extent of the crime as I see fit."

"Sir," said James, straightening his glasses, "I'm not sure I follow."

"Officially, James, the pair of you will only be disciplined for the wrongdoing in which you were caught." He turned back to McGonagall. "I'd say an appropriate punishment for the extent of the crime would be to spend every evening between now and the Christmas holiday shadowing Mr. Filch, wouldn't you, Professor McGonagall? It is one of his busiest seasons, to be sure, and I know that he could use two able-bodied young wizards to help him in decorating the castle, cleaning up after festive students, and tending to his many other duties during the evenings."

"I agree, Headmaster," McGonagall nodded sagely. "Very appropriate indeed."

"Every night?" James croaked in horror. "But Professor, what about Quidditch practice?"

"Part of a punishment, James, is having to forego our usual enjoyments," Dumbledore said. "You will have to miss any scheduled Quidditch practices between now and the end of term."

McGonagall looked less than thrilled with this development, but she jerked her head in agreement as James's mouth opened and closed silently in abject mortification. "Only three weeks remain in the term, Potter. It is probable that you won't fall so far behind as to be replaced on the team. Though in the future – and particularly after the loss from this past Saturday – I would hope that you would put the good of the Gryffindor Quidditch team ahead of your own sense of amusement."

"Yes, Professor," James mumbled, finally deflating in his seat. The sight of James looking chastised and dejected only worked to anger Sirius.

"Is that all then?" he asked brashly. "Or are we going to get some other _disproportionate_ punishments on top of all that?"

"Mind your tone, Black, or we'll see just how disproportionate our punishments can get," snapped McGonagall.

"Black?" came a snide voice from behind them. Sirius whipped around at once to discover the portrait of his great-great-grandfather, Phineas Nigellus Black, looking down upon him. His bleary eyes and slightly disheveled beard indicated that he had just been roused from sleep. With a sense of dawning, Sirius remembered Dumbledore telling him about this portrait during their previous conversation on the Quidditch pitch, though he had forgotten about that particular tidbit of information until right this very moment.

"Ah, well if it isn't my great-great-grandson," Phineas Nigellus said in a voice dripping with condescension. Sirius fought not to roll his eyes. The portrait had a brother in Grimmauld Place which never missed an opportunity to criticize him. "Been brought up to the headmaster's office, have you? I have to admit, I'm only surprised that it has taken this long, if your insolence and insubordination at home is any indication of how you treat your elders at school."

"Thank you, Phineas," Dumbledore said with a tone that was clearly meant to end the discussion. Face suddenly very warm, Sirius turned back to the headmaster, though he could feel Phineas's eyes on the back of his neck. "We are almost finished here, boys," Dumbledore continued, as if there had been no interruption. "Though before you are dismissed, I would like to instill upon you the impropriety of your actions against Mr. Filch. It does not do to antagonize those who are less privileged than ourselves, whether in fortune or talent. We expect more of two good and exceedingly bright wizards, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," James said at once, clearly admonished.

"Less privileged?" Sirius repeated, his lip curling at the injustice of it all. "But Filch is a fully-grown wizard, and he picked on us first!"

"Impudence!" Phineas Nigellus bellowed. "I shall inform you, Dumbledore, that nothing you say will have any effect on this brat of my flesh. He has brought nothing but shame to a noble line –"

Dumbledore held up a silencing hand and the portrait once again fell quiet. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room, Sirius stared off just over Dumbledore's shoulder and tried to steady the angry racing of his heart.

"Sirius." Dumbledore said nothing else until Sirius reluctantly met the headmaster's gaze, which was kinder than he was expecting. "Yes, Mr. Filch is a fully-grown man. But let me remind you that you can never fully know what another man is like until you've flown a mile through a storm on his broomstick."

Sirius swallowed and finally nodded, wanting desperately to get out of that office. "Yes, sir."

"Straighten that spine, boy, you look like a slouching Muggle tramp," sneered Phineas Nigellus. The crack of his father's wand flashing through his mind, Sirius straightened instinctively, but this seemed to only spur the portrait on. "It's a wonder your mother hasn't died of shame, having raised an ungrateful little miscreant such as you. In my day, you would have been thrown on the street like a common Squib –"

There was a clattering as James leapt up from his wooden chair, pushed it aside, and strode over to stand directly in front of Phineas' frame, his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Shut it, you slimy, ponce-faced ninny! Sirius is twice the wizard you ever were!"

"James…"

"Mr. Potter!"

Phineas' face at once went from looking indignantly affronted to rather intrigued. "A Potter, eh?"

"That's right," James said, throwing his shoulders back. "Have you got an issue with that too, you ugly old shoe licker?"

Phineas scowled. "Well at least you've got some backbone to you. Another Gryffindor, I presume? Of course, there is a distinction to be made between common bravery and ordinary foolishness…"

"That is quite enough, Phineas," said Dumbledore, rising from his desk and striding over to put a calming hand on James's shoulder. ("Hear, hear!" cried a round, red cheeked wizard from the portrait next to Phineas.) "I shall have to request that you stop provoking my students or I will be forced to pull your curtain."

With a flick of his wand, a lush, red curtain appeared at the side of the frame, held in place by a golden-tasseled lash. Phineas eyed it warily.

"No need, Dumbledore," he said, his voice oily. Stroking his pointed beard with a silk-gloved hand, he surveyed Sirius with a sneer pulling at his lips. "I have suffered enough shame for one afternoon. Perhaps I will go visit my other portrait…excuse me…"

And with that, he walked into the side of his frame and out of sight.

"Professor," said Sirius. His hands were shaking, though from anger or humiliation, he could not say. "He-he'll tell my mother –" He glanced at James and tried to silently communicate his worry; anything to anger his mother or turn her against James would be sure to ruin their holiday plans.

"Unthinkable!" roared the portrait of a frail old wizard from behind Dumbledore's desk. "The portraits of headmasters past are honor-bound to protect any disclosures that are made in this office!"

"He will not report on the goings-on in here unless I direct him otherwise," Dumbledore confirmed.

"I think we are finished here," said McGonagall, in a gentler tone than before. Both boys shouldered their school bags and awaited further instruction. "I shall inform Mr. Filch that you will meet him in his office in one hour. That should give you ample time to get some supper before he puts you to work."

Dumbledore opened the office door for them, but before they could scurry back out and onto the moving staircase, he spoke once more.

"One final thought," he said. "Let's put an end to any silly feuds that you may or may not have had a hand in recently. I believe that you both are better than that. And remember that it is the impulses that you choose to act on and those you choose to ignore which determine the kind of men you are, far more than talent or upbringing."

Though his voice was serious, there was a cheerful lilt to his cadence. Sirius stared at the open door behind him.

"Yes, sir," James said earnestly.

Everyone waited. At last, Sirius jerked his head and met Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded back to him and ushered them onto the staircase. Neither James nor Sirius spoke as they descended the tower in tight spirals, nor did they speak when the wall split to allow them exit to the brightly lit corridor. It wasn't until they got to the entrance hall that Sirius pulled James aside, wanting a minute to regain his appetite before venturing into the Great Hall.

"Looks like our fun is up," he said dourly, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

James mimicked the posture and ruffled his hair in a distracted kind of way. "Reckon so. No more war on Filch, at any rate. We never even got to the one with the chandelier…"

"And three weeks of acting like Filch's own personal house elves. He's going to be torture, you know he will…"

"Plus no Quidditch for three weeks," James groaned. "Beal's going to murder me when she finds out. _Avada Kedavra_ straight to the heart, courtesy of a hacked-off Quidditch Captain. Never thought that's how I'd go…"

"No Quidditch, no messing with Filch or Mrs. Newton, no messing with the girls because of the Cuffe rubbish, no messing with Snivelly because of Evans and the Cuffe rubbish…"

"Well," James said, bracing himself and grabbing Sirius by the shoulder to lead him toward the Great Hall, "we better enjoy dinner, mate, because the next three weeks are going to be about as much fun as a month's worth of snogging Slytherin's serpent."

Sirius laughed before he even realized it. It wasn't uproarious, was only an uneven chuckle, yet it surprised him nonetheless. But he shouldn't have been surprised really, because despite being told off by a celebrated ancestor in the headmaster's office, despite being caught red-handed with the kneazle-nip, despite a near month's worth of exceedingly tortuous punishment stretching ahead of him, he wasn't feeling too terrible. James had jumped between him and his great-great-grandfather and had called the man an 'ugly old shoe licker,' and that, Sirius decided, was what he could hold onto.


	28. 3-7 or 'Of Christmas Miracles'

_A/N: I'm so grateful for the response to the last chapter...thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! Now, enjoy Christmas once again (including a quick visit to the Lupins')!_

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. I own nothing._

* * *

 **Chapter 28 - 3.7 or "To the Lowest and the Best of Christmas Miracles!"**

* * *

There were, James and Sirius discovered early in their tenure, exactly two perks to being Filch's personal servants leading up to Christmas holiday. The first was that, despite having only been stationed at Hogwarts for a little more than a year, Filch seemed to know several of the castle's secret passages that James and Sirius had not yet found. One of their tasks over the first week of their punishment was to scrub clean countless castle walls, and Filch's insistence that they skip certain sections or pillars clued them into the fact that there was something unique about those spots that Filch was not eager for them to discover. So, naturally, once their work was done for the night, the boys would double back under the Invisibility Cloak to have a poke around. It was in this fashion that in the three weeks of their tortuous and unfairly disproportionate punishment for the war on Filch, James and Sirius unmasked no fewer than six new secret passageways, including one that opened right under a massive pine tree on the edge of Hogsmeade.

The second benefit to their punishment was that in being deputized to assist Filch in decorating the castle for Christmas, they had unrestricted access to his supply of mistletoe. Thus, it was no mystery to anyone when sprigs of mistletoe started appearing not just in the standard corridors and doorways, but also in such unusual places as inside the girls' lavatories, covering the ceiling of McGonagall's classroom, and suspended over Dumbledore's chair at the staff table in the Great Hall. The professors, perhaps in a swell of holiday cheer, or perhaps relieved by the amusing harmlessness of the misplaced mistletoe, turned a blind eye, and suddenly Hogwarts was full of amorous couples trying to get a quick kiss in before lessons, though none in the girls' lavatory from what James and Sirius could tell.

And so, despite three whole weeks of laborious punishment, the Christmas break arrived before they knew it and the Marauders, on the whole, were in high spirits. Sirius had instructed Regulus to tell their parents that he would be spending the holiday at the Potters', and everything seemed to be going quite smoothly right up until the moment when the Hogwarts Express shivered to a halt at King's Cross station.

"Shit." Sirius dove away from the window in the boys' train compartment, his eyes wide and wild. _"Shit!"_

"What's wrong?" James asked as he, Remus, and Peter all paused in pulling their things from the luggage rack to stare at Sirius.

"My mum's on the platform," Sirius hissed at James, "standing _right next_ to your dad."

"So what?" asked Peter, stepping toward the window and peering out of it with interest.

Remus frowned. "Yeah, doesn't she know you're going home with James this year?"

"But I don't want to have to speak to her! And, more importantly, I _really_ don't want her speaking with James's dad."

"Okay," James said, sitting back down on the seat he had only just vacated. "We'll stay in here until she's gone then."

But after fifteen minutes of watching impatiently for Walburga Black to depart with Regulus, Sirius was forced to admit that his mother was clearly waiting for him. He and James had bid Remus and Peter goodbye and were huddled as far away from the compartment window as possible when Sirius started fidgeting.

"Check again," he said.

James crawled across the seat to the window and raised his head just enough to get a quick glimpse of the platform. "No luck," he said, sinking back down and out of sight once more. "They're still out there and the platform's getting emptier. We've got to go out there eventually, mate, or my dad's going to think we missed the train."

"All right," Sirius sighed. "We'll just make it as quick as possible – and remember, if it comes up, we're good little purebloods."

"Right," said James, standing and pulling down the bags from the rack above them. "But we can't be too outright, or else my dad'll know something's up."

"Wait – _shit_ – we've got to change."

"What?"

"Back into our school robes!" Sirius said, trying not to panic as he dug into his bag. "We can't go out there wearing Muggle clothes, my mum would skin me alive!"

And so, platform nine and three-quarters was almost completely empty when Sirius and James emerged from the train five minutes later, both now dressed in their standard wizard robes and cloaks and approaching Mr. Potter with a falsified air of nonchalance.

"Ah! There you are," said Mr. Potter, grinning as he reached out to give James a one-armed hug that James distractedly acquiesced to. "I was starting to think you had got lost somehow."

Sirius, though, was watching his mother close the very short distance between them with Regulus dragging his things behind her.

"Sirius," she said by way of greeting, the formal tone she used in public not giving away any of her intentions.

"Hello, Mother," Sirius muttered, hoping with everything inside of him that she would not derail his holiday plans. "Reg said I was allowed to go to James's for the holiday. He said you said it was all right."

Regulus gave him an innocent shrug, but his mother ignored him, her eyes flashing from James to his father and her expression calculated. "And you must be the elusive Master Potter," she said to James's father, who gave her a tight-lipped smile in return.

"Please," he said, inclining his head in a polite bow, "call me Fleamont."

"Walburga Black," she introduced herself, holding a jeweled hand out for Mr. Potter to kiss. Sirius shifted his weight as Mr. Potter lowered his lips to the claw-like offering. "It is such a pleasure to finally meet you."

Mr. Potter straightened once more and surveyed the three Blacks. "The pleasure is entirely mine."

"All right," Sirius said, pushing past his mother to start toward the exit, "we've got to get going now, see you later, Mother."

The sharp points of her fingernails digging into his shoulder stopped his forward progress. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Sirius?"

"Right," Sirius said, turning back toward the group and swallowing hard. "James, this is my mother…Mother, James…okay, now we're off."

He tried walking again, but no one else followed.

"What a delight, James," Mrs. Black said, releasing her grip on Sirius's shoulder to extend her hand for James to kiss as well. Sirius averted his eyes and fought down the bile rising in his throat. "I've heard so much about you."

This was entirely untrue, and James knew it, but he did not miss a beat before kissing her hand and smiling charmingly at her. "And I've heard so much about you, Mrs. Black, but Sirius's descriptions certainly did not do you justice."

Walburga's eyes flickered to Sirius only momentarily, but she seemed unable to find a suitable response in present company, so instead, she introduced Regulus to James's father. Sirius took the opportunity to nudge James and silently communicate that they needed to make haste. James gave a shrugging nod and turned back to the conversation.

"– disappointed to not have the opportunity to meet your wife," Mrs. Black was saying. "We've corresponded, of course."

"I'm sure she will be equally regretful to have missed this opportunity as well," said Mr. Potter. "She's been having some trouble with her hip, unfortunately, and riding in the car for several hours would have only aggravated it further."

Sirius shot a panicked look at James and both boys once again tried to move the group along.

"We _really_ should be going now, Dad…"

"Right, we've loads of things to do. Goodbye, Mother…"

Neither Mr. Potter nor Mrs. Black (nor Regulus, whose eyes had been bouncing from person to person cautiously during the entire exchange) moved.

"A car?" repeated Mrs. Black with an arch of her eyebrow. "You came to fetch your son in a car?"

The tight-lipped smile was firmly back in place on Mr. Potter's face. "Yes. Euphemia and I are unable to Apparate much these days, and I've always suffered from Floo-sickness, I'm afraid. The car is very useful in situations such as these, I'm sure you understand…"

Walburga Black clearly did not understand, and she also certainly disapproved. "I see…"

"Of course, we've made quite a few adjustments to it, so that we don't have to sit in Muggle traffic, for instance…"

"Yes, of course." His mother looked at him sharply, and Sirius felt his stomach drop before she turned back to Mr. Potter, her practiced mask of politeness back on her face. "My husband Orion and I were hoping to have your family for tea on Boxing Day. It only seems proper that we get to know each other better, now that our sons have become such close friends."

Another frantic look exchanged with James, and Sirius stumbled to find some way to get around the invitation, but he needn't have worried.

"That is very kind of you, but I'm afraid we already have plans," said Mr. Potter cordially. "A tradition, actually…you see we always visit with our dear family friends on Boxing Day…"

"Oh?"

"Yes, the Bones family…I'm not sure if you're acquainted…"

"The Bones family?" Mrs. Black echoed with another raised eyebrow. "Yes, of course…"

There was an awkward pause as though Mrs. Black were waiting for the Boxing Day invitation to be extended to her as well, but Mr. Potter just smiled good-naturedly and rocked backwards on his heels.

"Well, we had better be off or my wife will start to worry. Regulus," he said, nodding toward the boy before turning back to Sirius's mother, "Mrs. Black, it's been an honor meeting you both."

For a moment, Sirius thought that his mother might crack under the combination of the rejection of her offer, the discovery of the car, and the mannered dismissal, but he should not have underestimated her. Walburga Black, after all, had been trained her entire life on the importance of politeness in high company, and Fleamont Potter certainly warranted her most proper of etiquette.

"The honor has been all mine, Fleamont," she replied, her hand once again reaching out to rest on Sirius's shoulder. He suppressed the instinct to move out of her grasp. "You're sure my son is not too much trouble for you? No one knows better than I that he can be a handful."

Mr. Potter's eyes darted to the hand on Sirius's shoulder, and Sirius wondered if he could see how sharply the talon-like fingernails were digging into him, but the next second, she had released him to take a much gentler hold of Regulus's shoulder.

"Not at all," said Mr. Potter, his eyes still moving between Sirius and his mother. "Sirius is a very welcome guest in our house."

"Really, Dad, we need to get going," said James, before the conversation could be drawn out any further. "Mrs. Black, it's been a pleasure."

To Sirius's utmost relief, his mother did not cause any trouble as the conversation ended and they moved to the station exit. Not fifteen minutes later, he was sitting happily in the passenger seat of the Potters' car as Mr. Potter maneuvered them easily toward the outskirts of London and James lounged across the seats in the back.

"What's this one do?" Sirius asked, pushing another button on the dashboard. The voice of a newscaster filled the car.

"…Miss Orpington, the granddaughter of the celebrated Minister for Magic Evangeline Orpington, has not been seen since the third of December, when she spoke at a rally for Muggle rights…"

"It's the WWN," Mr. Potter said, reaching over to lower the volume and talking loudly over the newsreader. "If you push this button here it will flip over to the Muggle stations…"

From the back, James snorted at Sirius's squeak of glee, but Sirius ignored him and pressed the indicated button eagerly. At once, a raspy singing voice and guitar riff filled the car.

"What's this? Is it Muggle music, then?" Sirius asked Mr. Potter, turning bodily around to look at James in elation. "This is _Muggle music!_ "

Mr. Potter chuckled as he guided the car onto the motorway and gave Sirius a sidelong glance. "I reckon so."

"Well what is it? Is it a band? Are there Muggle bands just like there are wizard bands? Can you get records that run off electricity?"

"Sirius, you git, sit down," said James, laughing at Sirius who was now up on his knees and facing entirely the wrong direction.

"Turn around, son," Mr. Potter said, patting Sirius's shoulder until he pulled himself back around on the seat. "I can't say I know much about Muggle music. I've no idea what the bands are called, but I do know they have records just like wizards do."

"Brilliant," Sirius said, the word _son_ ringing in his ears loudly enough to drown out the music for a moment. The song ended after a minute and led into a slower-paced tune that could not hold Sirius's attention for very long. He fiddled with the window crank before a thought occurred to him. "Hey Mr. Potter, have you ever been to the _cinema?_ "

* * *

After a quick farewell on the train from a flustered Sirius and a distracted James, it took Remus only a minute or two to locate his father on platform nine and three-quarters. Unlike the previous two years, the full moon would not be falling over the Christmas break this year, so Remus had been in much higher spirits at the prospect of seeing his parents for the holiday. The only thing he would have to worry about was ensuring that he did not let slip his friends' knowledge of his condition. This, he supposed, he could do if he kept his wits about him.

The hug he gave his father, then, was a bit heartier than it had been in years past upon disembarking the Hogwarts Express, and Lyall Lupin pulled back from his son with an expression that was both surprised and pleased. He was a slim man and circumstances had aged him well beyond his years. His thin hair, which used to be a few shades darker than Remus's, was now entirely grey. The wariness he carried with him constantly had lined his forehead with deep creases that always seemed to mock Remus as the burden, the cause of his father's worry.

"Good to see you, Remus." His father's voice was sincere and he gripped both of Remus's shoulders with either hand, looking him over as though for signs of defect.

"Where's Mum?" Remus asked, glancing around the crowded platform curiously.

"She's at home," his father said, moving to take the handle of Remus's trunk and steering him through the crowd. "With the cost of petrol, it made more sense for you and me to Floo…though the public Floo prices have gone up so much, I'm not sure it makes much of a difference…"

"All right, then," Remus shrugged. He preferred riding in the back of his mother's car to Floo-ing, but the latter certainly saved them all several hours of time.

The platform was still very crowded and Remus had to adroitly avoid being hit with students' trunks and bags as he followed his father toward the Floo queue that started near the end of the train. He smiled and waved as he passed Ev Linney, who was walking in the opposite direction with her cheerful-looking mother.

"Have a happy Christmas, Remus!" she called.

"You too, Ev," he said, grinning at her. His father looked back at him curiously as they came to a stop at the end of the queue behind Adin and Kaia Balini. Adin was whispering hurriedly to a bored-looking Kaia while a well-dressed man who Remus assumed was their father read the _Daily Prophet_ and did not pay them any attention at all.

"Who was that?"

"Huh? Oh, that was Ev. She's a Hufflepuff in my year." Why this caused heat to rush to Remus's face, he could not say.

His father said nothing, but rested Remus's trunk on its end as they shuffled forward through the queue. Despite the standard din of happy greetings from parents and prolonged goodbyes between friends, not to mention the hooting owls and loud blasts of steam coming from the train, Remus could hear every word of Adin and Kaia's whispered conversation in front of him.

"…but that doesn't mean anything, just because they didn't partner together in Ancient Runes…I mean, _I_ partnered with Cassandra Nguyen, because Lily partnered with that Severus Snape and Cassandra is the best at Runes in the class I reckon, even better than Lily, so I knew we'd get top marks on our paper. But really, Cassandra was asked to go to Hogsmeade by Phillip Maloney, had you heard? And everyone could tell that Evan Rosier wanted to partner with her before I got to her, but I don't think it was because she's good at Ancient Runes…"

Remus could not tell whether Mr. Balini could hear Adin's rambling gossip or not, as he appeared thoroughly absorbed in an article about the missing granddaughter of a former Minister. Remus's father, on the other hand, was obviously trying to tune Adin out and was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"…and you'd think they would do it in private, at least, unless he was trying to make Cassandra jealous, and I wouldn't put that past Evan Rosier, would you? I mean, snogging Darlene Burke in the corridor where anyone could see them…right there under the mistletoe in the Charms corridor, I still can't believe it. And I don't even think he wants to go to Hogsmeade with her, but I'm sure she'll wrap him up… Burke's crafty like that and she won't want everyone thinking that Evan was just using her to get back at Cassandra…"

"Hi Remus!" said Kaia, finally spotting the Lupins behind her and looking relieved for an excuse to interrupt Adin.

Adin started at the interruption and turned toward the Lupins with a bright smile and no hint of embarrassment. "Oh, hi Remus, how are you?"

"Hi," Remus said as they all took another step forward in the queue. "I'm good thanks. Er, this is my dad. Dad, this is Adin and Kaia Balini. They're Gryffindors too."

For a second, a peculiar expression crossed his father's face, but the next moment, he was nodding to both of the girls politely. "How do you do?"

"Hi Mr. Lupin, nice to meet you!" chirped Adin. "Do you know my dad? Dad – _Dad_! This is Remus Lupin and his dad."

Mr. Balini looked startled to find himself a part of the conversation and extended a hand toward Remus's father. "Salvestro Balini."

"Lyall Lupin," he replied, shaking the hand as they all took one step closer to the fireplace that waited at the end of the queue.

"Lupin?" said Mr. Balini, squinting his eyes as though trying to recall something. "You're at the Ministry, I believe?"

"I was," Remus's father corrected. "Had a stint in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but I haven't worked there in years. I consult now mostly, and write, from time to time."

"Of course, of course," nodded Mr. Balini. "I thought I recognized the name." There were now only two people between the Balinis and the front of the queue, and they all watched as a small girl struggled to fit her trunk into the green flames with her. "I have to say," Mr. Balini continued, "I'll be happy once my girls have their Apparition licenses. All this Floo nonsense… It was easier when I could just Side-Along with Adin here, but with two it's far too dangerous…"

Remus's father nodded. "They might consider installing another fireplace on the platform to help with the wait times, or there'll start to be more parents who decide to throw caution to the wind and Side-Along recklessly."

"Hey, Remus," Adin cut in, "are you going to be visiting James and Sirius over the holiday?"

"Oh," said Remus, caught off-guard. "I don't think so, Adin, why?"

Adin looked disappointed. "Just wondering. My parents asked the Potters to our New Year's ball this year but apparently they declined."

"Our turn!" said Kaia as the woman in front of them disappeared into the fireplace with a whoosh.

Mr. Balini paid the Floo attendant and Kaia settled herself into the green flames. She stuck her head out and called "Happy Christmas, Remus!" before pulling back, stating her address, and disappearing with a whip of her cloak.

While she waited for her father to situate her trunk in the fire for her, Adin turned to Remus. "Dad says that starting next year I can invite some of my own friends to their New Year's ball, so you guys will all definitely be invited. Seems like a long time from now…a whole year. I tried to convince Dad to let me ask people this year, but he wouldn't budge on it." Mr. Balini made a gesture to Adin to hurry up into the flames and she shrugged at him before shooting Remus a final grin. "Anyway, see you back at school!" She threw a handful of Floo powder in front of her, stepped into the flames and vanished with a wave. Mr. Balini did not linger, but shook both Remus and his father's hands and then followed his daughters, disappearing with Kaia's trunk tightly in his grasp.

Remus's father gave him a swift, searching look before moving forward to pay the Floo attendant the eight Sickles required of them, and Remus did not have to ponder to understand his father's dubiety. His father had heard of only three friends of his at Hogwarts, and the idea that Remus was on friendly enough terms with his other classmates that he should be invited to a ball would have been very unsettling for Lyall Lupin. It was bad enough that Remus had gone off to visit the Potters each of the previous two summers; now he might be invited to the Balinis' as well?

As he stepped into the cool green flames, though, Remus could not find it in himself too much to care. It was not as if he was good friends with Adin or Kaia Balini or, indeed, anyone else at Hogwarts other than James, Sirius, and Peter. And even his father's anxiousness could not smother the glow of inclusion that Remus had felt at the idea that _he_ , Remus Lupin, might at some point in the future be invited to a party at the house of Adin Balini, one of the more popular girls at Hogwarts.

"Lupin residence!" he said loudly, holding tightly to his trunk and anticipating the dizziness that would shortly follow. "Outskirts of Portsmouth!"

The sensation was not a pleasant one and Remus closed his eyes tightly as he spun through the network toward his family's little cottage, the sweets he had eaten from the lunch trolley rolling dangerously in his stomach…

 _"Remus!"_

His mother's arms were around him not half a second after he had stumbled out of the fireplace, before he had even pried his eyes back open, her familiar honeysuckle scent enveloping him. He let go of his trunk with a thump and smiled into her shoulder, hugging her tightly.

"Look at you!" she said, pulling her head back to get a more thorough view of him. "Look at how much you've grown, you're as tall as me now!"

"Hi Mum," Remus said as a whoosh from the fireplace behind him alerted them to his father's appearance.

"Lyall – look, look how tall he is now, can you imagine?"

"I've only been gone a few months, Mum," Remus mumbled, tugging down the wrists of his cloak. "I haven't grown that much…"

"Nonsense, you look wonderfully healthy." His mother put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him gently toward her again to kiss his forehead. She had to rise up a bit on her toes to do it, Remus noticed.

"They feed him well at Hogwarts," said his father, who was guiding Remus's trunk toward the stairs with his wand. "You wouldn't believe it, Hope, but the platform Floo is now four Sickles a person, and that doesn't even include the powder. We'll probably just want to drive him back to London next time…"

"That's fine," said his mother distractedly, her eyes still raking over Remus as though trying to memorize him. "I don't mind driving him…"

Remus, though, who had never Apparated with his father before and had always wondered what it would be like, saw an opportunity. "We can Side-Along, Dad, I've always wanted to try –"

"No," said his father, starting up the stairs with the trunk. "It's too dangerous…you're not as strong as other boys your age."

"But it's the new moon in a few days and that's when I'm at my strongest, so maybe…"

"I said no. The last thing we need is for you to get splinched and end up in St. Mungo's. It isn't a discussion, Remus." It was lucky that his father was now up the stairs and out of sight, for he was unable to see the scowl that Remus sent after him.

"Don't worry about it, love. Here," said his mother, tugging at the collar of his cloak, "let me take this for you…"

"Mum – no, it's all right, I can –"

But his protest went unheard as his mother pulled the cloak from his shoulders and walked it toward the coat stand in the front hall. He took the moment to look around the little sitting room. It was unchanged since September, but that was unsurprising; the Lupin family had been forced to move around so much during Remus's childhood to hide his condition that as soon as they were able – as soon as Remus went off to Hogwarts – they settled into a comfortable, relief-laden stasis in their little cottage. It would not surprise Remus if in twenty years' time, the same photos hung on the same cream-colored walls, the same flowered valances framed the bright windows, the same pair of blue slippers sat in the same half-hidden position beneath the same tattered armchair. His parents had found stability in his absence. It was at once both heartbreaking and reassuring.

"I've made your favorite," said his mother, reentering the room and smiling warmly at him. "The turkey stew. It's been cooking for hours now, so the carrots will be nice and soft, just how you like them…"

"Thanks Mum," Remus said quietly. It was unnecessary for her to dote on him like this, but it was a warm comfort at the same time. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Of course I did," she said, her warm brown eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so happy to have you home, Remus."

She pulled him into another hug as his father reappeared and Remus realized with a jolt that this was the first time since he had been bitten – since _before_ – that his parents could see him without the fear of the full moon looming. They would not have to deal with the wolf during this visit home and they were not subconsciously counting down the days until they would face it again. His mother was looking at him as Remus, just Remus. He hugged her back tightly.

Remus spent the hour before dinner in the kitchen with his mother, watching as she put the finishing touches on the stew and telling her about his lessons and all the new spells he had learned since he had been away. As always, he avoided speaking too much of his friends, though they were such an ingrained part of his life at Hogwarts that he was unable to omit them entirely from his stories. His father flitted in and out of the kitchen distractedly, which was unusual; normally when Remus returned home from school, his father tried to glean every detail that Remus was willing to cede to him. He wondered if he had done something to anger or worry his father on the train platform, but he couldn't figure out what that would have been. Perhaps it was his pressing about Apparition that had set him off. By the time they all sat down to eat, his father had spoken only four or five sentences in total since their return home.

"Remus, love," his mother said to him when he had finished telling them about his Arithmancy class, "I'm glad you're doing so well in your lessons, but you're still having some _fun_ at school, aren't you? You've barely mentioned your friends. How are James and Peter and Sirius?"

"Oh." Remus glanced quickly at his father and then busied himself with his stew. "They're good, Mum, they're…"

"It's good that he's focusing on his schoolwork, Hope," interrupted his father before turning to Remus. "You're keeping enough distance from those boys, I hope. We haven't received any owls from Professor McGonagall this year, at any rate."

Remus could feel the heat rising in his face as he recalled the time in first year that Professor McGonagall had sent an owl to his parents after the Howler prank. "No…I mean, yes. I've been working hard, Dad…k-keeping my nose clean." He tried not to think of his part in the war on Filch, of James and Sirius absorbing all the punishment, of his ever-present guilt.

"He was in trouble one time, Lyall," said his mother in a patient but firm voice. "Must you remind him of it every time you see him?"

"It's all right, Mum, really…"

"That's one time too many," said his father, talking over him. "Professor Dumbledore is risking his own neck by allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts, but a trouble-making werewolf? What if he decides it's not worth the risk?"

It was not a new discussion. Indeed, it had been almost two years since that particular prank and Remus had begun to suspect that several of the lines on his father's forehead were a result of the stress that the Howler prank had induced.

"I'm staying out of trouble," said Remus, which was not technically a lie. "I promise. I'm focusing on my schoolwork. Professor Romielle says I'm one of the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she's an Auror…"

"That's wonderful, dear." His mother reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "But your friends…I only mean…you're still getting on with them, right?"

"Yes. They're – they're great."

They fell into silence as they each went back to their stew, but it did not last long. "Remus," his father said, frowning slightly as if ruminating on something, "the girls in the queue, the Balini girls…they're in your year?"

From the corner of his eye, Remus saw his mother jerk her head up to look at him. He swallowed the bite he had just taken and said, "Er, just Adin. Kaia's a second year."

"I see. And Adin was the…talkative one?"

"Yes," said Remus, who felt this was about as apt a description as one could reasonably give of Adin Balini. "Why?"

"Girls?" said his mother with raised eyebrows, but his father only paid her a quick glance before turning back to Remus.

"No reason," he said. "I was just surprised to discover you were friends with so many…girls."

"Oh," said Remus, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I'm…not really friends with them."

"Friends enough that they call to you and talk to you and invite you to their parents' balls?"

His mother whipped toward him. "You were invited to a ball by a girl? Oh that's just _wonderful,_ Remus!"

"No, Mum, no, it's not like that. We were behind them in the queue and she was just making conversation. She was asking after James and Sirius and…" He faded off before turning back to his father. "They're just girls in my lessons, Dad."

"Okay." His father nodded and returned his gaze to the bowl in front of him. He sighed. "Okay."

But it was clearly not okay, because Lyall stayed quiet for the remainder of dinner and sat silently in the corner reading his newspaper while Remus played chess with his mother that evening. He didn't say much of anything until Remus's mother turned in for the night and Remus made to follow her up the stairs and into his warm, waiting bed.

"Son?" Remus paused on the second step and turned back to his father, who had put his paper down on his knee and was now looking at him with a strange, hesitant expression. "I'd like to talk to you about something before you turn in."

With some trepidation, Remus returned to his previously vacated chair by the fire and sat gingerly on the edge, watching his father uncharacteristically fumble with his fingers. "Did I – did I do something wrong?"

"No." His voice was quiet, sad. "No, Remus, you didn't do anything wrong. But I just…need to speak with you…er, man to man." He paused and then let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Man to man. It feels odd saying that, but I reckon that's the point, eh? You're growing up. And it's not a problem, per se, but it could become one."

Remus stared. "I – I'm not sure I understand."

"Your transformations have been worse recently, haven't they?"

The change of subject was so abrupt that it took Remus a moment to understand what his father was asking him. "Er…yes. I mean, the really bad ones started this past summer, you know that…"

"Right." His father nodded, staring into the fire for so long that Remus began to get uncomfortable, but just as he was about to ask if that was all, his father cleared his throat and looked back at Remus. "Your transformations are getting worse because your body is changing. You're growing. And your voice is deeper. And I reckon you've started noticing girls? Having…thoughts…about them?"

The realization of exactly what kind of talk his father was trying to have with him caused Remus to recoil a bit in his chair. "Er…"

"It's all right that you have. It's normal for a boy your age. You'll be fourteen in a few months and it's just…well, I was hoping things might slow down a bit for us, but that's not how it works. Your condition doesn't stop you from growing up. It doesn't prevent you from having the same urges as every other young wizard your age."

Remus would have been perfectly content right then to let the armchair swallow him whole. Or perhaps to dive headfirst into the fire. Both options seemed preferable to listening to his father tell him about urges.

"Er, Dad…you don't have to…I mean, I already know about…about these things and why my transformations have got worse. I've read about it. The library at school has lots of books on lycanthropy…"

"You don't take those books out?" asked his father sharply, his awkward demeanor being overtaken by a sudden alertness. "You don't leave them in your dormitory for any of the other boys to find?"

"N-no. I only read them in the library and I'm careful, I promise."

"All right." His father sighed and pressed his fingertips hard into his eyes. He looked exhausted. "Here's the thing, Remus – and you don't have to give me any details if you don't want to – but you've started thinking about girls. Noticing them? Having new kinds of thoughts about them?"

Of course he had noticed girls, and it was impossible to not have thoughts about them when he was surrounded by friends who had no qualms making suggestive comments or, in Sirius's case, sneaking off to secluded parts of the castle with one. Remus did not fancy any girl in particular, but he certainly noticed them all.

His flush must have been answer enough, for his father continued, now more awkwardly. "The thing is, Remus, as normal as these changes are…you are not a normal thirteen-year-old boy. Other boys might be inclined to act on their urges – to ask a girl to Hogsmeade, for instance, or to hold her hand." _Hold her hand_ …right. Remus knew for a fact that Sirius was not holding Gin's hand when they went off alone together. "You…you have to keep your distance."

A loud silence followed this proclamation, and the mortification that Remus had been feeling moments ago at the topic of conversation suddenly shifted into a gaping disquiet.

"Keep my distance?" he repeated, his voice sounding raspy in his own ears.

His father licked his lips and then stood to stoke the waning fire, his eyes fixed on the log that crumbled to ash at the touch of the iron poker. "I know you've made friends at Hogwarts and as discomforting as that is to me, I can't say it isn't nice to see how happy it's made you to have friends. But girls are different. Girls are clever. Girls…notice things that boys don't. You can't get close to a girl, Remus. You can't take one to Hogsmeade or meet up with one at fancy, pureblood balls…"

"I told you, I'm not even really friends with the Balinis, Dad –"

"That's not the point!" The words were spoken so harshly and loudly that Remus shrank backward as though he had been struck. Frustration was clearly tearing at his father, who dropped the poker against the wall with a _clang_ and began pacing in front of the fire. "It won't be long until the kids in your year start getting girlfriends and boyfriends and running round together doing whatever it is that young witches and wizards do these days. _You cannot partake_ , Remus. You cannot have a girlfriend. You cannot entertain the idea. You cannot get your hopes up that a girl wouldn't notice your disappearances. A girl would pay close attention to you. A girl would wonder why once a month you can't eat lunch with her in the Great Hall. A girl would notice that once a month you're too tired to take a walk with her around the lake. A girl would catch onto you, and most girls – at least most girls who I have known – would not let it drop. She would ask questions. She would dig. She would discover your secret and then where will we be?"

He could not bring himself to meet his father's eye, so he stared resolutely at his knee, willing himself not to snap at his father, not to tell him that he was wrong about Remus's friends, so who's to say he was not also wrong about girls. But something told him that his father was not wrong on this account. It was different with his friends. They could keep their distance if they chose, but a girl…what would a girl do if she discovered she had kissed or held the hand of a half-breed like him? Remus had never thought about having any sort of romantic relationship before, so he had not considered the implications his condition might have on such a situation. Now that he did, though, he was forced to see the reason behind his father's worry.

After all, why shouldn't his curse affect his outlook on love just as much as it affected every other aspect of his life?

Slowly, he raised his eyes to his father, who had stopped pacing and was staring at him, awaiting his response. "I understand." His voice was quiet, but the rasp from before had vanished.

The way the firelight flickered across his father's face made him look as old as Professor Dumbledore at that moment. "Do you? Do you really?"

"Yes. I know that I can't… I know that I can't be with girls like other boys." He swallowed down his embarrassment. "I don't even fancy anyone, Dad, b-because I know it would be a waste of time."

His father sat back down in his armchair again and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together against his forehead as if in prayer. Remus watched him, wondering why this conversation, of all things, had made him feel guilty. It was he, after all, who was realizing for the first time that he would never be able to date or kiss or fall in love like a normal boy. So why did he feel so terribly for his father at that moment?

"Dad?"

His father looked up at him, tired eyes rimmed in red. "I'm sorry, Remus. I know this isn't easy."

"It's all right," he said softly. And then, because he wondered if he could make his dad laugh at that moment, "Besides, I'm not used to things being easy. I'm not sure I'd know what to do if it was."

He was rewarded with a small, watery smile. His father sat back in his seat and Remus could almost see some of the tension escaping his shoulders. He looked closely at Remus. "Are you very tired?"

"I'm okay. Why?"

"Well if you aren't too ready to run off to bed, I was hoping you could tell me more about your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. An Auror, you say? And she thinks you're one of the best in the year?"

Remus grinned and settled back in his chair.

* * *

Despite the cold, grey rain that incessantly began falling the evening they arrived at the Potter house, the days leading up to Christmas were nothing short of idyllic for Sirius. On the second full day of their stay, the boys decided to brave the elements to walk up the hill and visit the Muggle cinema for the very first time. James's mother had cast Warming and Impervius Charms on them both to keep them nice and dry for the walk there. Both charms wore off as they sat in the dark theater, enthralled by the story unfolding before their eyes, but by the time they walked home (after a cursory stop in the Muggle record shop) they were both so energized by the experience that neither noticed the dreary dampness that had settled into their clothes.

"Look at you both," Mrs. Potter said upon their return. "You're soaked through to the bone. I'd no idea these Muggle adventures would last quite so long."

"Mum, you wouldn't _believe_ it. The people – they were as big as giants, the picture was so ginormous! And the Muggles – they have these special wands that kill people –"

"Guns!" Sirius added exuberantly, shaking water droplets from his hair onto the polished floor of the foyer. Mrs. Potter summoned some warm, fluffy towels and began drying both boys off. "They call them guns and they shoot little balls at you like spells!"

"And there were these fake Muggles – what do they call them? – like _robots_. And they came to life and were trying to kill all the real Muggles, but then the good Muggle, a real one I mean…"

"…he set the fake one on fire in the end!"

"And we were thinking – Mum, _Mum!_ Stop for a second –"

Mrs. Potter paused in her attempts to dry off James's head and frowned at her son. "You're going to become ill, James, it's freezing out there and you both look like you've jumped in the lake."

"I'm not going to become ill, Mum, we're trying to tell you about the film!"

"Flora!" called Mrs. Potter, ignoring James and turning her ministrations back to Sirius. The old house elf appeared at her side at once. "Oh, Flora, will you please run hot baths for the boys? They need to get nice and warm. And have Ant make them some tea…"

"Yes, Madam," squeaked Flora, bowing low before hurrying off to tend to her duties.

"Mum, we were thinking," continued James as he shucked off his wet shoes, "the fake Muggles in the film…I mean, they were created so that the real Muggles could have practice with shooting their guns, but what if _wizards_ did that? What if we created fake wizards to practice spells against so you're not accidentally cursing your mates?"

"You shouldn't be cursing anyone James, and if those are the kinds of spells you're practicing at school…"

"We're not. Merlin, Mum, it's a _hypothetical…"_

"There's a new one opening after Christmas – a new film, I mean," said Sirius as James's mother helped him out of his cloak and began drying his shirt with hot air from her wand. "And there was a poster for it where you buy the tickets and the Muggle who sold us the tickets said it's supposed to be just _fantastic_ and can we go back to see it after Christmas, Mrs. Potter?"

"Of course we can, right Mum?"

"Well, I suppose," said Mrs. Potter, now turning her wand toward James. "Though maybe I'll have your father drive you up there next time…"

"We don't mind walking!" said Sirius, practically bouncing up and down in his eagerness. "We went into the record shop on the way back –"

"Has that record shop always been there, Mum? How come I've never been in it before?"

Mrs. Potter pulled James's glasses from his face to siphon the water droplets off. James made an unsuccessful grab for them and then fixed her with a squinting frown while he waited for her to finish. "You boys went all the way up the high street? No wonder you're soaked through!"

"Mum, are you listening to a word we're saying?"

"Yes, yes, the record shop," she said, handing him back his glasses and turning him around by the shoulders to dry the back of his shirt. "You've never been interested before, James, why on earth would you have gone into a Muggle record shop?"

"Because it was bloody marvelous –"

" _Watch it_ , young man…"

"And the bloke who was working in there…what was his name, Sirius?"

"Chester."

"Right, the bloke Chester let us go into a booth in the back and listen to a bit of a Muggle record and Mum, can I get a record player for Christmas?"

"James, Christmas is in two days!"

"I know, but I really want one and Sirius does too, so it can be like a gift for both of us, because it'd stay in our room at school and Sirius spends so much of his holidays here anyway and – _stop_ , Mum, I'm dry, I'm dry!"

He danced away from her before giving her a hopeful, pleading expression.

"Well, I don't know…I'll talk to your father and see…"

"Brilliant!" said James, taking this as a given victory and turning to sprint up the stairs. "Come on, Sirius!"

"James Potter, neither of you is going to get any gifts at all if you're at St. Mungo's with pneumonia," she called up after their retreating forms, "so you'd better go take those baths Flora is drawing for you and warm up before dinner."

"Okay, Mum, _okay!_ "

It was not such a surprise, then, when Sirius and James walked into the sitting room on Christmas morning to find a brand new shining record player sitting underneath the tree.

"It's perfect!" James sang, hopping up and down in his excitement while Sirius sat down on the floor to examine it more closely. "Thanks Mum! Thanks Dad!"

"Happy Christmas, dear," said Mrs. Potter, steadying James's motions enough to give him a kiss on the side of the head. Sirius tried not to look too overly pleased when she swept down and kissed him on the head as well.

"Happy Christmas!" he said, grinning at her before turning back to the record player. "Look! It says here that it can play both Muggle and wizard records. I've some more Muggle pounds upstairs, maybe we can go back to the record shop and –"

James gave a whoop. "Let's go this afternoon!"

"The shop won't be open again until Wednesday," Mr. Potter cut in, smiling warmly at the boys' excitement as he settled into an armchair and accepted a cup of tea from Flora. "If the weather's poor, I'll drive you both up there and to the cinema as well."

Sirius collapsed backward onto the floor and stared up at the twinkling lights that adorned the Christmas tree, not even attempting to fight the gleeful smile that took over his face. "Blimey, this is the best Christmas _ever_."

"Come on, then," James said, giving his leg a kick, "we haven't even got to our other gifts yet!"

The other gifts only intensified Sirius's good cheer. He was given a large pile of new Muggle clothes from James's parents, who laughed at his thrilled reaction to the jeans and jumpers. From Peter, he received a few new tricks from Zonko's, and from Remus, several new pairs of wooly, warm socks, which both Sirius and James found rather amusing. The package from Andromeda included some homemade fudge, a nice note, and several photos of baby Nymphadora, who was now chubby-cheeked and who blew spit bubbles at her mother from beneath a mop of curly red hair. Sirius made the mistake of tasting the fudge before reading Andromeda's letter, which apologized for her decided lack of culinary talent.

"Blech!" Sirius gagged, spitting the fudge from his mouth back into the parcel wrapper. "It tastes like dragon dung."

James snorted. "Reckon she doesn't have a team of house elves to do her baking anymore."

"Either that or the fudge is actually from Bellatrix and it's been poisoned."

"Seems likely," James said, tossing his newly-unwrapped Quaffle at Sirius, who caught it before it smacked him in the face. "I know I think about offing you every other day and poisoned fudge seems like a good – _Merlin!"_ he exclaimed, staring at the latest gift he had just pulled into his lap. "The newest practice set. It's fantastic! Thanks Dad!"

"It should help you when you're flying here, at least," said Mr. Potter, who had just unwrapped a rather ugly new hat for himself. "When you can't let your actual Bludgers and Snitch out…"

"What's it do?" asked Sirius, eyeing the set, which seemed to hold a perfectly normal Bludger and a small golden Snitch.

"The Bludger's made of foam or something. It's soft, see, so you can practice dodges and swerves without getting too bloodied up. The Snitch flies in patterns so that Seekers can practice agility and catching without their Snitches zooming off into the countryside. I can't wait to…"

"James," said Mrs. Potter, evidently recognizing the look on her son's face, "you have to wait until after lunch to try them out."

"But –"

"After lunch," she repeated. "You've still a whole pile of gifts to get through."

James's pout was short-lived, as he soon became distracted with the new chessboard he had just received, though by the time they sat down to lunch he was so anxious to get in the air that he scarfed down his ham in record time. He and Sirius thus spent the rest of the afternoon on the makeshift Quidditch pitch behind the house, breaking in James's new gear and diving in and out of the icy rain drops until the moment when they were called in by Mrs. Potter, who was armed once again with her fluffy warm towels and another lecture on playing in the cold rain. Christmas dinner was the best that Sirius had ever had at the Potters' and he was struck anew by the sense of comforted contentment he felt surrounded by James's family.

It was a bit surreal, actually, and for a moment Sirius could see the situation from afar, as if he were watching their scene play out on the huge screen at the Muggle cinema: he watched as James tried to convince his father to let them have a bit of the wine, watched himself pull a Christmas cracker with Ant, who bowed and laughed graciously as he affixed the ridiculous top hat to Sirius's head, watched Mrs. Potter squeeze his shoulder so gently and naturally as she walked behind his chair. He thought of the cold, formal dinner that was no doubt being hosted in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at that exact moment, the icy silence in place of laughter, piercing fingernails in place of warm touches. It was sharp and sudden, a finger-prick of longing for the family he didn't have, and then it was gone as a laughing Mr. Potter poured them each a few sips of the wine and a victorious James raised his goblet in the air and cried, "Huzzah! To the lowest and the best of Christmas miracles!"

The wine tasted sharp and foreign and not particularly _good_ , but Sirius drank it anyway, the small sips gone all too soon, and Mr. Potter staunchly resisted when James began needling him for more. The feast and revelry lasted late into the evening and James disappeared upstairs not long after they all had retreated from the dining table. Sirius knew that James was waiting for him, but he couldn't object when Mr. Potter asked for his help with the crossword puzzle, and they sat next to the fire in the sitting room for over an hour, trying to figure out the correct synonym for enchantment (six letters) and the dangerous loch dweller of magical lore (nine letters). Therefore, when Sirius received no answer to his knock on James's bedroom door later that night, he assumed James had simply fallen asleep. They had planned to exchange Christmas gifts in private, neither boy particularly inclined to parade their gift under the nose of James's parents. When Sirius's second knock also received no answer, he shoved James's present in his pocket, cracked open the door, and stuck his head inside.

Seeing that the lamps were still lit and James's bed empty, Sirius allowed himself full entrance into the room and closed the door gently behind him. It was only when he turned around did he spot James, and Sirius leapt back in surprise at the sight. James was sitting underneath the window, his eyes closed, his legs crossed, his hands on his knees, and his body hovering six inches off the ground.

Had he not seen Peter in the very same position on multiple occasions in the fourth-floor secret passageway, perhaps Sirius's shock would have been more profound. As it was, though, it only took a second for the surprise to wear off and for him to sink to the ground across from James with a sigh, awaiting the moment when his friend would thump back to earth, triumphant – finally – in making the initial connection with his Animagus Form. Sirius sat silently, flipping the wrapped parcel between his fingers, watching James with interest and trying not to feel too jealous. Despite their months and months of trying, he was now the only one of the three unable to connect. He was now the only one holding them back.

At length, James gave a great gasp and slumped back down to earth, blinking rapidly as though trying to regain his bearings.

"Was it all you dreamed of and more?" Sirius asked, the mocking edge to his voice instinctive, defensive.

James either did not pick up on the tone or decided not to acknowledge it. He regained his bearings, hopped to his feet with surprising quickness and began pacing back and forth in front of the window, a wide smile splitting his face. "It bloody well was! Merlin, that was…that was…like a dream, almost…but…"

"But Evans wasn't in it, so…less sticky? _Oi!"_ Sirius laughed as James kicked him hard in the side.

"I do _not_ fancy Evans."

"Yeah, yeah," said Sirius, dismissing him with a disbelieving wave of the hand. "So your connection…"

"It was like Peter's been saying – I was feeling good tonight so I decided to give it another go while I was waiting for you to show and I got to the point where I felt it starting, but instead of pulling myself out of it, I kind of, I don't know, _fell_ into it. And then I was back in the forest by the lake, in my trance state, and it was just like…peace. Like the easiest, lightest peace I've ever felt."

"Sure you're not just drunk off the three sips of wine from dinner?"

James stopped pacing and grinned down at him. "That was pretty good, eh? And the Boneses are coming round tomorrow, so I'm sure I can wheedle some more out of my dad, or maybe we can nick some when no one's looking…" Sirius nodded but said nothing, and James looked closely at him, his smile fading. For a moment it seemed like he was going to say something, perhaps something encouraging or supportive, but then he thought better of it and reached over to grab a small, wrapped parcel off of his bed, which he tossed to Sirius.

"Cheers," said Sirius, grateful that James had not raised the subject of his lack of Animagus progress. He tore into the packaging to find a small box. "A diamond necklace? You shouldn't have."

James rolled his eyes. "You're a prat. Open it, will you?"

A small, rectangular piece of rubber fell out of the box when Sirius pulled it open, and Sirius checked to see if there was anything else contained within. Satisfied that this was all there was, Sirius examined the rubber curiously. It was about the width of two of his fingers, and only half as long. It had no markings on it at all, though half of it was a bubblegum pink color and the other half a creamy white. He flipped it through his fingers a few times before looking back up at James with a confused frown.

"What is it?"

"It's bloody perfect, is what it is. Watch," said James, moving to the other side of the bedroom to dig hurriedly through his school bag, which had been thrown haphazardly in the corner upon arrival home and ignored since. After a second, he pulled out an old, scrawled-upon Herbology paper and proceeded to tear the parchment straight in half down the middle as he returned to Sirius's side and sat down cross-legged on the floor next to him. "Give it here."

Sirius handed the piece of rubber over and watched as James rubbed the pink side gently over a line of his Herbology essay, which remained unchanged.

"What are you –"

"Watch," James repeated, waving off the question. He then proceeded to flip the other half of his essay over to the back, clean side of the parchment. With less precision than before, he rubbed the white half of the rectangle onto the parchment. Glistening with wet ink, the same line of James's Herbology paper appeared as though just written with a sharp new quill.

"Merlin…" began Sirius in awe.

"It's a Duplicator," James told him, tossing it back. Sirius caught the small piece of rubber and now looked down upon it as though it was lost treasure. "The _Prophet_ used to use them in the print department, so they could have unqualified witches and wizards producing the papers. Don't have to pay unqualifieds much, do you? But that got outlawed years ago, and these Duplicators went out of fashion."

"And we can use it," said Sirius. "Of _course_ we can use it…"

"Not for schoolwork…"

"Right, if we turn in the exact same papers, even the daftest professors might get suspicious. But for notes…"

"Detention slips…"

"Tardy passes…"

"Just think, next time Sprout or someone writes one of us a tardy pass, we just duplicate her signature and write ourselves enough to be late whenever we need."

"That's not bad," Sirius nodded, impressed with the logic. "McGonagall'll see straight through it, but the other professors won't. And here," he said, thrusting his own gift into James's hand, "this ought to help free up some of our time even more."

James pulled open the paper and gazed down at the two thin strips of wood, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wands? Mate, I don't know how to break it to you, but I've already got a wand…"

" _Fake_ wands," Sirius corrected him, reaching over to snatch up the wand closest to him. "And not the rubbishy joke kind you can get in Zonko's. These don't do much of anything, except they'll vibrate a bit if you grip them too tightly, to make them seem real."

"I'm not following…"

"I've been looking into some simple transfigurations to change this one," he twirled the fake wand between his fingers, "to about twelve inches, cedar, and _this_ one," he plucked up the second wand from the packaging and waved it in front of James, "to a bit shorter and…mahogany, isn't it?"

"And why would we want fake wands that don't do anything but look like our real wands – unless –" James's eyes lit up with understanding. "– you mean for detention? To hand over to the professors?"

Sirius could not suppress his excitement at their brilliance. "It won't work on McGonagall, either, and probably not on Flitwick, but just imagine… We're in detention with Filch or Pince or Hagrid and they tell us to hand over our wands and set us to cleaning bedpans or cauldrons without magic…"

"…and then they leave us to it for a few hours, supposing we don't have our wands to get away with anything…"

"…so we cast a few Scourgify spells and _voila_ , we now have two free hours to do with what we please, while the professors are thinking we're serving our rightful punishments…"

"…and no one's the wiser." James took one of the wands out of Sirius's hand and spun it through his fingers. "That's genius."

"Yes, well don't act surprised," said Sirius. "Everyone knows I'm the brilliant Marauder, after all."

James snorted and gave him a light cuff on the arm, but Sirius was too tired at the moment to retaliate. He tilted his head back against the end of the bed and grinned lazily out the dark window, embarrassingly content for now sitting next to James, reveling in their own cleverness, and doing his best to concentrate on the new tools that would aide them at Hogwarts and not on his inability to connect with his Animagus Form.

The Hogwarts teachers, he reckoned as he and James spun their fake wands in sync with one another, really didn't stand a chance.


	29. 3-8 or 'Boxing Day'

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Your kind words help me work through a terrible block I've been dealing with. Now enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by Jo Rowling. I own nothing._

* * *

 **Chapter 29 - 3.8 or "Boxing Day"**

* * *

There was something inherently depressing about Boxing Day, Lily thought. While she knew of other families who had big celebrations or traditions, the Evans' house in Cokeworth always felt a bit deflated on the day after Christmas. Forget fancy feasts or family get-togethers – Boxing Day usually consisted of being told by her mother to tidy up her Christmas gifts and to eat the leftover turkey for lunch. Even the smell of the house seemed to echo her morose sentiments, the lingering aroma of cinnamon and chestnuts from the day before dissipating into the vaguely stale scent of wassail dregs and wilting pine. But on this particular Boxing Day, Lily was in high spirits, for her parents and sister were out for the afternoon, the kitchen smelled of ginger, and Severus had just arrived at her front door.

"Come on," she said, pulling his coat from around his shoulders before the door had even snapped shut on the dreary, grey afternoon. "I've got a surprise."

"What are you – hold on a sec –" Lily unwrapped the scarf from his neck and threw it over the stair bannister along with his long, tattered coat. "Hello to you too, Lily."

She paused in her endeavors to grin at him and then started down the corridor toward the kitchen, pulling his arm along behind her. "Hi Sev, hello hello, nice Christmas and all that, now come on!" The fact of the matter was, she was excited to tell him about his present. Pleasantries could be exchanged later.

She shouldered her way through the door that led to the kitchen and then spun around to watch his reaction as he entered the room behind her and surveyed their surroundings. The reaction, understandably, was a rather confused frown.

"What's the surprise?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the table full of baking supplies before darting around the rest of the room, clearly expecting something more exciting.

"Ginger biscuits!" said Lily. "The ones my mum makes that you like so much."

Severus frowned slightly and looked around again. "What about them?"

"We're going to bake some. You and me! It's my present to you, for Christmas, I mean. I thought we could spend the afternoon baking together, and then you could have the biscuits when we're finished."

She waited with bated breath for his reaction, some of her excitement ceding ground to her nerves. Truthfully, she had been hoping to get a bit of pocket money for Christmas with which to buy Severus's gift, but had received none. Spending time together with the promise of his favorite biscuits afterward, she reckoned, was her best option. Severus, though, stared at her as if she were completely mad.

"Baking?" he repeated, a strange look on his face. "Me and you?"

"It'll be fun!"

"Baking?"

"Yes!"

"Baking biscuits?"

She laughed and swatted his arm. "Yes, now stop that!"

He was still staring at her as though trying to determine how, exactly, she had sprung an extra head, but now there was a twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes and she thought he was trying to fight back a smile. "Lily, you are a rubbish cook. Must I remind you of the porridge incident of last summer?"

Lily bristled. "That wasn't my fault!"

"No one could get that burnt rock of porridge out of the bottom of the pot!"

"The instructions were unclear!"

"Your mum had to bin the entire thing and buy a new pot!"

"Yes, well…that's why you're here to help this time. Baking's rather like Potions, isn't it? So you and me working together ought to be great at it."

He started laughing now and it was such an authentic, happy, rare laugh that she couldn't help but join in. "All right," he said after a moment. "I'll try it. I have to say, food poisoning as a Christmas gift beats most of the other gifts I got this year…"

She smacked his arm again and ignored the bitter truth hidden under his sarcasm. "Stop taking the piss and let's get started, eh?"

But Severus didn't move from his spot by the door. "Where's your sister? And your dad?"

"Out," said Lily, smiling at the freedom of it. "Mum and Dad are having tea with old Mrs. Whitman and Petunia's got a new boyfriend she's visiting."

"Your sister's got a boyfriend?" Severus repeated, a rather disturbed look on his face.

"Disgusting, isn't it? He came round on Christmas Eve to try and brown-nose Mum, but I don't think it worked very much… Mum and Dad aren't very impressed with him. He was real smarmy. He's real skinny, too, and not much taller than she is, and Tuney is usually so judgmental about those things, but then I saw that he's got a _car_ , so I think that's why she's seeing him."

"Yes, but why would he be seeing _her_?" Severus said, suddenly snide.

"What do you mean?"

"Your sister's a bitch, Lily."

"Severus! You can't say that!"

"Why not? It's true."

It was true, and Lily knew it, but that didn't mean that Severus was allowed to voice it. She glared at him. "Are you being rude so that I'll kick you out and you don't have to help me bake? Because it's not going to work."

He shrugged but seemed to recognize the look on her face and didn't press it. "I'll help you bake the stupid biscuits," he mumbled, his posture awkward and fidgety, "but first I…can I give you your gift?"

"You got me a gift?"

He nodded, not looking at her. "It's in my coat pocket. I'll go get it."

She watched as he disappeared through the swinging door into the hallway, taken aback by this turn of events. Aside from one time when he had brought her a few half-melted chocolates bundled in a napkin, he had never given her anything before, and she had certainly never expected anything from him. The assorted baking ingredients strewn across the kitchen table seemed shockingly pathetic all of a sudden. He returned a moment later with a small, thin parcel wrapped in newspaper, which he thrust into her hand with a gruff, "Sorry about the wrapping."

"That's all right." She stared down at the parcel, which was so light that she wondered whether there was anything at all hidden inside the newspaper. "You didn't have to get me anything, Sev."

"It's…well, it's not much."

"Thank you," she said, wishing he would meet her gaze.

"Go on and open it, then."

With delicate fingers, as if unwrapping a small injured animal, she pulled apart the newspaper to find a feather, smaller than most of the quills she used at school, but by far more beautiful than any she owned.

"Wow, Sev," she breathed, pulling the feather from the wrapping and turning it in her hand to inspect it more closely. It was a vibrant blue with flecks of gold that winked in the light. "It's wonderful!"

"I…I made it myself. It's a jobberknoll feather. They're really rare. I found it on the grounds and then I made some small transfigurations – the nib should be everlasting, it won't ever wear out. And I added the gold bits, but that was just a charm that I altered a bit, nothing too…too exciting…"

She smiled up at him, moved enough by the gesture that she was not even embarrassed by the prickling at the back of her eyes. "I think this is the most beautiful thing I've ever owned. Thank you, Severus."

He finally glanced quickly at her and then reddened and averted his eyes again. "Merlin, Lily, it's not a bloody tiara. It's just a quill…"

But it was more than that and they both knew it. The feather still in her hand, she closed the distance between them and hugged him gently. He remained stock-still, his arms hanging unsure at his sides, but she did not care.

"It's perfect," she told him in a quiet voice, the ends of his lank hair tickling the top of her arm. "Thank you."

At long last, he raised his arms and returned the hug, his body tense and his hand awkward as it patted her on the back. She pulled away after a moment and returned to the table, where she sat and smiled up at him. Everything about him seemed uncomfortable, disoriented, and he was once again avoiding her gaze.

"All right," she said, "let's get to baking. And now I'm going to feel like _real_ rubbish if I accidentally poison you, so you've got to do most of the work."

* * *

The Bones family, it turned out, was enormous. When James had spoken of the Boneses coming over on Boxing Day, Sirius had assumed a handful of people for dinner, but the family that descended upon the Potter house throughout the afternoon could best be described as a mob, thirty people deep.

"…and that one's Amelia, with the short hair…and Francine, the blonde that looks a bit like a hawk there…and the tall one's Louise…they're sisters. Cousins, I think, of Stu and Eddie, and there's a brother too, Roger, but I don't see him…"

James and Sirius were sitting about halfway up the sweeping staircase in the foyer, watching the chaos of arrivals and attempting to abstain from the proceedings for as long as possible.

"That Louise is pretty fit," said Sirius, watching the statuesque brunette remove her cloak and hand it to Flora, who was now teetering under a stack of ten heavy, discarded cloaks.

James snorted. "Well she's a right prig. Wouldn't know a joke if it bit her on the nose. One time Stu swapped a singing saucer under her teacup and you would have thought he had put a dead mouse in her tea, the way she went on about it. Anyway, she's married to some big Ministry bloke…there he is…"

"James!" Mrs. Potter appeared at the bottom of the staircase, frowning up at them. "What are you two doing up there? Come down and say hello like a proper host."

"Be right there," said James, throwing Sirius a grimace and rising from his perch. Sirius followed him down the stairs and through the crowd, curious and slightly apprehensive as James greeted various Boneses and introduced Sirius with ease. His apprehension grew into a vague defensiveness when James moved to say hello to George and Abigail Bones, who were the only members of the family outside of Stuart that Sirius had ever met before and who, on their previous meeting over the summer, the boys had overheard speaking of their deep suspicions about Sirius and his last name.

"…sprouted up, haven't you?" old Mr. Bones was saying, his hand flat on the top of James's head as if trying to tamp down his unruly hair. "Your dad was small for his age, if I remember, but he always held his own in a duel, Fleamont did. I reckon you don't let the bigger lads give you much trouble, do you James?"

"No one gives me any trouble unless they want their lips transfigured into parsnips, Mr. Bones," said James with an innocent smile.

Mr. Bones gave a wheezy laugh and pulled his hand from James's head to pat him on the back. "That's the spirit."

"Don't encourage dueling, George," reprimanded Mrs. Bones, swooping in to plant a smacking kiss on James's cheek. "Hello, dear, good to see you of course."

"Hi Mrs. Bones," James said, sidestepping away from her and trying to wipe the red lipstick mark from his face. "Er, you remember my friend Sirius, don't you?"

"Nice to see you again," said Sirius, shaking both of their hands and doing his best to remember his manners. He was not particularly fond of George Bones after the conversation he had overheard, but he was certainly very fond of Mr. and Mrs. Potter and had decided to swallow any prideful inclinations to be rude to their friends.

"Ah, yes, the Black boy," said Mr. Bones, hanging onto Sirius's hand for a beat longer than was necessary. "Back again, I see."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Bones seemed to be sizing him up and Sirius held his gaze with steely defiance. "You certainly do spend a lot of time here. I'd think you would want to see your own family over the holidays once in a while."

"Actually, I prefer to be near sane people over the holidays, when I've got the chance," said Sirius, unable to keep all of the bite out of his tone. Next to him, James sniggered.

"Sane people?" said an amused voice from behind them. Both Sirius and James turned to find Stuart Bones standing with another young wizard who Sirius didn't know. Stuart, whose hair had grown since he had left Hogwarts into a mop of brown curls that now grazed his shoulders, grinned at him and then cuffed James on the arm. "No idea what you're doing hanging round with James, then, mate. He's been off his rocker since he was in nappies."

"In fact," said the unknown wizard, who was stockier than Stuart and appeared to be a year or two older than him, "damned if I don't remember him stripping his nappies off and running round with them on his head."

James grinned at the pair, seemingly unfazed by the gibe. "Good to see you too, Eddie," he said, as George and Abigail were pulled into a conversation with other family members. "And damned if I don't remember your broomstick malfunctioning and me having to rescue you from the top of an old oak tree."

Eddie and Stuart both laughed. "Shit broom, that old Tinderblast was. Dad went and got his gold back the next day. Anyway, it was lucky for me you were such an ace flyer even as a six-year-old, James."

"Less lucky for you that he likes to remind you of his heroics once a year or so," Stuart said.

James laughed and then, as if just remembering that Sirius was standing next to him, said, "Oh, Sirius, this is Edgar Bones. Eddie, this is my friend Sirius Black."

Edgar Bones shook his hand with a pleasant enthusiasm. "Aye, I've heard of you. The Gryffindor Black, right?"

"That's right," said Sirius. "The one and only."

"There was a Black in my year at Hogwarts – Bellatrix?"

Sirius shivered dramatically. "Sadistic, stuck-up cow? Yeah, that's my cousin. Charmer, she is."

"My sympathies there," said Edgar. "That witch scared just about everyone in our year. Some of the professors, too, I reckon. Anyway, don't worry about our old granddad over there. He takes a while to come round. But me? I like you already."

Sirius gave him a wry smirk. "That's kind of you, knowing my cousin as you do."

"But you're a Gryffindor," said Edgar. "And I've never disliked a Gryffindor."

Stuart snorted back a laugh. "Oh yeah, Eddie? Does the name Thomas Chapman mean anything to you?"

Edgar rolled his eyes and let out a humph. "Chapman's no Gryffindor, I don't care which tower he slept in. No _true_ Gryffindor would bring a Slytherin bit of skirt to a Quidditch victory party, I don't care how good looking Ellie Rowle was." He seemed to spot someone over James's shoulder and grimaced. "Bugger, there's Mum. C'mon Stu, we should head her off before she comes over here and starts berating us for not answering her owl this morning."

"Oi, sit next to us at dinner, won't you?" Stuart said to them as Edgar pulled him toward their mother. "The pair of you is bound to be more entertaining than the rest of this old group."

With assurances from both James and Sirius, the brothers disappeared. James was soon commandeered into a conversation with his father and one of the Bones uncles, and Sirius exchanged a few pleasantries with cousins whose names he had already forgotten before he slipped away unnoticed into the kitchen to see what Ant was up to.

Ant, it turned out, was busy preparing the feast to feed thirty people, though this did not seem to dampen his enthusiasm when Sirius sat down at the kitchen table to watch him work.

"Are you quite sure Ant can't get you anything, sir?" squeaked the tiny elf. "No juice? No tea? What about a quick roast beef sandwich to hold you over until dinner, sir? I can add just a taste of the gravy from the pot."

"Oh go on, then," said Sirius, and the elf glowed with excitement as he bustled to the stove to prepare the sandwich.

"It's been cooking for quite a while, sir, but you must tell Ant if it tastes – how do you say it? – up to _snuff_ , sir!"

It was up to snuff. In fact, after Sirius devoured the first sandwich, he asked a beaming Ant for a second, aware in the back of his mind that he might be spoiling his dinner, but then with a laugh admitting to himself that he could probably eat four or five helpings and still be hungry for pudding. He had just finished licking the last bit of gravy off his fingers when the door to the kitchen swung open and Stuart Bones backed into it, his eyes darting around the hallway suspiciously as if checking for spies. With a relieved exhale, he closed the kitchen door, turned, saw Sirius, and let out a little yelp.

"Oh – sod it – sorry, Sirius, you startled me." He relaxed and then crossed the kitchen, throwing himself into the chair across from Sirius. "I thought you were my cousin Francine. She's been dogging me since I got here. Hey there, Ant! Been a while, mate."

"Can Ant get young Master Bones something to drink, sir? Or something to eat, sir?"

"Nah, don't mind me, I just came in here to hide – that is, if Sirius here doesn't mind the company?"

Sirius shook his head and shrugged at the older boy. "Why are you hiding from your cousin, then?"

"She won't leave me alone about this friend of hers who I, er, dated a while back. Thinks that just because I took the bird out once or twice that means we should be on our way to the bloody altar or some rubbish like that." He fished around in his pocket and extracted a half-empty pack of cigarettes. "You don't mind, do you?" Sirius shook his head again as Stu settled the cigarette between his lips and lit the end of it with his wand. "Want one? Wait –" He frowned around the cigarette and gave Sirius a dubious look. "How old are you again?"

"Fourteen," he answered, his eyes lingering on the ember that glowed red when Stuart inhaled.

"Fourteen," Stuart repeated, leaning backward in his chair and exhaling a spiral of smoke toward the ceiling. "Good age, fourteen. Had me a lot of firsts at fourteen. Anyway, want a fag? Only if Mrs. Potter catches us I'll claim you Imperiused me to get it."

The offered cigarette was a brisk reminder of being ten years old, forced awkwardly to visit the Avery house (as though his mother believed that surrounding him with other pureblood boys could make him buy into their prejudice, when in actuality it rendered the opposite effect) and Marshall Avery, his voice high-pitched and wavering at the time, showing Sirius the pack of Hiltons filched from his father's bedside table, the acrid taste of tar on his tongue as each boy tried to be tough in the gaze of the other.

He felt the urgent need to swat the cigarette out of Stuart's hand, but then shrugged and accepted it with casual fingers. This, _this_ was his mother's just reward for the relentless attempts to indoctrinate him with the Avery family: a fourteen-year-old smoking a fag in the kitchen of a family she would undoubtedly despise, alongside a member of a different family she would undoubtedly despise. It felt poetic, he ruminated as Stuart leaned forward to light the end of the cigarette with his wand. Sirius inhaled and then gave a sharp, panicked set of coughs. To his credit, Stuart didn't laugh, but just slouched back in his chair with an easy, "Take it slow."

He concentrated on holding the smoke in his mouth and tried to ignore the burning sensation in his throat, but after a few more unsteady coughs, Sirius seemed to get the hang of it and tried to mimic the way Stuart's hand relaxed around the white paper as he raised it to his lips, the way he tilted his head back to exhale out of the side of mouth, the way he leaned over to ash the cigarette on Sirius's empty sandwich plate.

"Great place to hide, the kitchen," said Stuart after a minute of silent, contemplative drags. His eyes fondly surveyed the warm, massive room and Ant bustling away at the stove. "I've been coming in here to sneak a smoke since I was about your age, I reckon." As if remembering something, he waved his wand and vanished the smoke that was drifting around them.

"I'm not hiding," said Sirius, not knowing if this was entirely true. "I was just visiting Ant."

"Ah, well I am _definitely_ hiding. Francine's been off her rocker about since she left Hogwarts. Though I guess I don't have much to complain about seeing as your cousin is Bellatrix Black." Sirius said nothing, though his tightened jaw must have given him away, for Stuart took another drag and continued. "I didn't know Bellatrix much, myself. Knew her sister, though, Andromeda. She was my year."

"Andromeda's not bad. She's the only one I get on with."

"Yeah? I haven't heard anything about her since we left school. What's she up to these days?"

"Married. With a baby."

"No shit? To who?"

"Ted Tonks."

 _"No shit."_ He took another drag and let the smoke roll out of his mouth in thin waves, apparently mulling this over. "Wait – Tonks – isn't he Muggle-born?"

Sirius coughed again and tried to play it off, though Stuart didn't even bat an eye. "Guess so," he said once his lungs were back in working order. "The family didn't like it, so Andromeda…well, she's not part of the family anymore."

"Merlin." Stuart waved his wand and vanished their smoke again. "Andromeda Black marrying a Muggle-born. Who would have thought? Brave of her, in this climate."

"This climate?" repeated Sirius.

"With the way things are going now. What with old Voldemort and his minions and all."

Sirius stared, his mind trying to break through the dizzy fog that buzzed about his brain. For one, he didn't want to come across as a dumb little kid who had no idea what Stuart was talking about and for another, he felt instinctively that he should be cautious in trying to glean more information.

"Voldemort?" he echoed.

Stuart waved a dismissive hand as if swatting at a pesky fly. "You Know Who. The Dark Lord. Whatever they want to call him, but I'm not scared of saying his bloody name, that's for sure."

"Right," said Sirius, the pieces clicking into place. The wizard his parents said would take over the Ministry. The one the Slytherins were recruiting for at Hogwarts. The one who wanted to dig up pureblood followers. A name, at last. "Me either. Voldemort." He paused, considering what Stuart had just told him. "Is Andromeda in danger?"

He shrugged, but Sirius got the impression it was an attempt at feigned casualness. "Nah. I doubt too many people even know she married Tonks. I was in her year and hadn't heard, so it can't be too well-known."

"My whole family knows," Sirius pointed out. "And we're not as massive as your family, but that's still a good chunk of purebloods."

A flash of something like worry crossed Stuart's face, but was snuffed out when he took a final puff of his dwindling cigarette and then snubbed it out on Sirius's sandwich plate. "She's a Black," he said simply. "It won't get so bad as to where anything could touch a Black. You've nothing to worry about."

"All right," said Sirius, contemplating his next question. "So…people know him? The…Voldemort bloke?"

Stuart looked at him sharply. "Know him? Know _of_ him more like, but no, there's a lot of secrecy where he's concerned. The whispers of his name just started within the last year or so, though people are starting to shy away from saying it. Rumors are circling that it's cursed, but that's a load of rubbish, that is. Glad to hear you saying it."

"I'm not scared of some tosser pureblood who thinks he's royalty." Sirius mimicked the older boy and snubbed his butt out on the plate as well. "Sounds like he'd fit right in with the rest of my family."

With a final flick of his wand, Stuart vanished both the last curls of smoke and the remnants of the cigarettes from the plate. "The problem's not that _he_ thinks he's royalty. The problem is the others who think he's royalty."

"Are there many of those people?"

"One's too many, isn't it?"

Sirius pondered this. "How do you know so much about it, anyway?"

"I've my ways," he said enigmatically. Then, suddenly, "Oi! Ant! When's dinner going to be served then?"

The tiny elf, who had been overseeing a large vat of potatoes which appeared to be mashing themselves, sprang to attention at the address. "Fifteen minutes, young Master Bones, sir. Can Ant get you something in the in-between time, sir?"

"Nah, thanks though," said Stu, standing and stretching with a sigh. "Best be getting back to make sure Eddie hasn't cursed Francine while I've been gone. Eddie's got himself a leggy blonde these days, but that doesn't mean Francine's not pestering him to go out with one of her hag friends. Eddie's a slow burn but if she bothers him enough, he'll start firing jinxes." He paused and then smirked. "Wouldn't want him to start a duel in the Potters' sitting room."

Sirius grinned at the image. "You sure about that?"

"No," Stu conceded, looking at Sirius conspiratorially out of the side of his eye, "but we wouldn't want to miss it if it came to pass, that's for sure. Let's go." He started toward the door to the kitchen and then stopped abruptly, pulling his wand out of his pocket once more. "Bugger, wait – here – _Odvanesco_." He circled his wand across Sirius's chest and then did the same to himself. "For the smoke," he explained at the look of questioning that Sirius shot him. "I've made that mistake enough times before to know the lecture from Mrs. Potter by heart. You're not ready for it yet, mate, believe me."

And with a wink, Stuart ambled out of the room, all long limbs and mop of hair. Sirius followed a few steps behind, his throat tickling and his stomach churning and his mind buzzing, but standing a bit taller in Stuart's shadow.

* * *

"No, hold on then – those ones there are too big, the dough's going to run together. You've got to make them more the size of…of a Sickle…"

Lily used her spoon to reapportion the size of the dough ball on the tray. "Better? How do you know all this, anyway?"

"It says right here in the instructions, Lily," said Severus with a note of impatience. Lily pulled a face at him.

"Well if _someone_ had let us cut them into ginger men instead of boring old globby-balls, then I wouldn't have this problem, now would I?"

"I told you, if I'm just going to eat them anyway, why in the world would we waste our time cutting them into the shape of people?"

"Because we could've made a little Lily biscuit, and a little Sev biscuit, and the little Lily biscuit could have ripped the Sev biscuit's leg off because he's being a no-fun prat."

"People-shaped biscuits that don't actually move round or do anything…it's ridiculous."

"It's _fun_ , Sev."

"It's _my_ gift, Lily."

"Fine," she said, flicking a piece of dough at his face. "So tell me more about the new book you got."

"It's not new." He sent her a glare her as he wiped the goop from his cheek, but it was gone a second later. "It's secondhand – maybe thirdhand by the looks of it – and it's N.E.W.T. standard, so it's the text we'll start using in sixth year…"

Lily finished placing the last bit of dough and grinned up at him. "Only you would be excited to get a textbook for Christmas."

"…but it's got loads of information about Golpalott's First Law, which I need for the new idea I'm working on…"

"New idea? You didn't tell me you were working on something new. What is it, a potion?"

"Oh, er…" He pointed to the tray of dough balls distractedly. "Those need to bake now, right? Ten to twelve minutes, the instructions say."

"How do they look?" Lily asked, tilting her head as she examined the unbaked biscuits with a critical eye. "Do they look right to you?"

"They look fine. They look like dough."

"Shouldn't they be a lighter color? These seem a lot darker than when my mum bakes them."

"Maybe they're darkening with old age, as they've been sitting on that tray waiting to get baked for _hours_ now."

"Shut it, it hasn't taken me that long. Now open the oven door for me, will you, before they fossilize."

The hot air from the oven bathed her face as she placed the tray gently on the rack, taking care to not burn her hand. It was only after she set the plastic, rooster-shaped kitchen timer that she took a moment to look around the small kitchen, her eyes lingering on the sugar that dusted her mother's old, creaky scales, the bits of dough that littered the table and the floor, even the smudge of flour that sat unnoticed on Severus's left wrist.

"Bugger," she said, sighing in defeat. "I suppose I have to tidy all this up now. Seeing as it's your gift and my house, it wouldn't be proper for me to ask you to help…"

She looked at him hopefully, but he simply sat down at the sullied kitchen table and gave her one of his patented 'I am not amused' looks. "If we were at my house, we could have it all washed up in a matter of minutes." He noticed the flour on his wrist and scrubbed at it as if it were a corrosive poison before adding as an afterthought, "As long as my mum and dad weren't around."

Not wanting him to see her eye-roll, she turned toward the sink and flipped on the tap to begin washing the mixing bowl. "I've told you before, even if your parents were out, and even if we ever went to your house, and even if I had my wand with me for some unknown reason, I'm not doing magic outside of school. It's not allowed and I don't care what you say, I don't want to be expelled."

"But that's just it, you _wouldn't_ be expelled if you did it at my house. You would if you did magic here, because of the Trace, because only Muggles live here…"

"I live here. I'm not a Muggle, remember?"

"You know what I mean," he said quickly. "But a few spells at my house and the Ministry can't know it's not my mum doing them. Granted, she barely does magic _ever,_ but that's only because of _him…_ She's still a qualified witch…she's still _allowed_ to do magic in her own house…"

Lily wrinkled her nose as she plunged her hands into the sudsy dishwater, disliking the feel of the slimy dough remnants against her skin. "You're not a qualified wizard, though, Sev, and I don't want _you_ getting expelled either."

"I'm not going to get expelled. Avery and Mulciber do magic all the time outside of school…"

"Oh right, and if Avery and Mulciber do it, it _must_ be a good idea. And besides, even if they were caught, you know they wouldn't be expelled…not with families like theirs. You and me, on the other hand…"

When Severus said nothing, she threw a pointed glance over her shoulder at him, but he was scowling at the floor. She supposed he didn't like her reminding him that he was not, in fact, so similar to the other boys in Slytherin. It was a blessing in her mind – if he were more like his housemates, the two of them would certainly not be best friends.

Refocusing on the washing up, she allowed the sound of the water to replace the need for conversation for several minutes before saying, "You didn't finish telling me about your new idea." He said nothing. "I guess it's a potion, then, if you need Golpalott's Laws to sort it out?" Still, no response. Lily set the newly-cleaned mixing bowl on the drying rack, flipped off the tap, and dried her hands on the tea towel as she turned to look at him.

"Earth to Sev? Best friend, here. Asking you a question. Would be having better luck chatting with this tea towel… Oi, Mr. Towel – oh, I can call you Tea? How lovely. Is it a potion you're making then, Tea? How's it coming along? What's it do?" When Severus only crossed his arms over his chest sullenly, Lily raised the pitch of her voice up an octave and moved her hand in the towel as if it had a mouth. "Why thank you for asking, Lily. Of course I'd be happy to tell you about my potion, only it's not going so well, since I have no hands with which to stir it, and no eyes with which to watch it, and no brain, no brain at all!"

At last, his stubbornness cracked and Severus let out an amused snort. She flicked the towel at him, brushing his neck with the corner of it. He flinched. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about the potion," he muttered at last.

"What do you mean, you weren't supposed to tell anyone? Says who?"

"Evan," mumbled Severus, staring fixedly at his own fingers.

"Evan?" Lily paused in wiping off the work surface to look up at him curiously. "Who's Ev – wait, _Rosier_? You're working on a potion for _Evan Rosier?_ "

As though looking for something to distract him from the conversation, Severus stood up and began packing away the ingredients that were still strewn about the table. "It's not like that, it's just…we were talking one night and he mentioned something and I had an idea and I said I would look into it."

Not wanting to gape at him like an idiot, Lily turned her attention back to the flour-covered side. "All right," she said, searching for something to say that wasn't, ' _You mean you're being friendly with someone who isn't me or Avery or Mulciber? It's about bloody time.'_ Instead, she said, "All right. Evan Rosier, huh? I didn't know you two were mates."

That was diplomatic enough, she reckoned.

Severus glanced up at her, but she kept her eyes casually fixed on the way the tea towel in her hand seemed to be doing nothing but moving the flour in broad circles across the worktop.

"I guess. It's not, you know, a big deal."

It was a strange pairing, Lily thought, though she would never tell Severus that. Evan Rosier, any reasonable person could attest, was the haughtiest, best looking, least cruel, and most _normal_ of the Slytherin boys who Lily had come into contact with. He had never, at the very least, accosted her in the corridor or called her a Mudblood to her face. In the last few weeks before Christmas, he had also become the topic of quite a lot of Hogwarts gossip, having been seen on many occasions snogging Darlene Burke rather vigorously underneath the mistletoe.

"All right," Lily said for a third time, letting out a giggle that caused Severus to look at her curiously. "Could you tell me if it's a potion for lips chafed by too much snogging?"

Severus reddened and suddenly seemed very intent on closing the bag of sugar with the utmost precision. "You should see them in the common room," he mumbled. "It's disgusting, the way they thrash about together."

"Eurgh," Lily said, wincing at the mental image. "You'd think they'd want to find somewhere private at least. Who wants to see two thirteen-year-olds trying to swallow each other's faces?"

"Fourteen," Severus corrected.

"Hmm?"

"Fourteen. They're purebloods. They're fourteen."

Lily paused in the act of shaking the flour-laden towel out over the sink to look back at him, frowning. "What does being pureblood have to do with their age?"

"Oh you know… They say all the old pureblood families do what they can to time it so they have their children in autumn, so that the kids'll be older in the year than their classmates. They think it gives their kids a leg up to have extra time to develop magically before they start Hogwarts."

"You're joking."

He shook his head and went back to screwing the cap onto the cinnamon. "I'm not. We're lucky to be January, you and me. Wilkes is April. Mulciber and Avery like to take the piss about it whenever he does something overly daft."

Lily considered this new information with the same unpleasant lump in her stomach that she felt whenever she discovered some strange, twisted facet of pureblood culture. She thought of the pureblood Gryffindor birthdays she knew of – Adin was October, but Raeanne was February. Sirius Black, she seemed to recall, was sometime in autumn as well, though James Potter's birthday she thought was in the spring.

"It makes sense," Severus continued, only a slight note of annoyance to his voice. "Why wouldn't you try to give your kid an advantage if you can?"

"Right," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "Because being rich and pureblooded and being surrounded by magic from the day they were born and being able to do magic outside of school even though it's against the rules isn't enough. A few more months' worth of childhood development over the other kids really ought to do the trick!"

Severus said nothing, and Lily finished wiping the side down in silence, wishing she had not snapped at him. After all, the lunacy of the purebloods in his house was not _his_ fault. An awkward discomfort hung in the air.

"So, the potion," she said in a half-joking tone, trying to bring the conversation back to a less bitter place. "If it's not a potion to make Rosier's lips baby soft or his breath minty fresh for all eternity, what is it then?"

"I can't tell you," replied Severus at once.

So much for less bitter. "Oh. All right."

"I told you I wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

Lily tried to hide her disappointment, reminding herself that it was good for Severus to have other friends. Especially other friends that weren't named Avery or Mulciber or Wilkes. "Okay then."

Perhaps he misheard her response as some sort of veiled, vehement argument though, because he became defensive at once. "It's not like _you_ told _me_ about that Babbling Beverage a few months ago," he said, closing the spice cupboard with a little more force than was necessary. "You went and did that all on your own with _your_ mates, all top-secret like."

"I said okay, Sev. And are you still sore about that?"

"You weren't going to even tell me about it. I'm sure I only found out because James Potter snuck into your dormitory somehow and saw the cauldron…"

Lily fought back her rising irritation. "It was just a laugh, I told you before. And it wasn't even all that fun. We just sat around and chatted. You know, girl stuff. Nothing that would interest you."

Severus opened and closed his mouth a few times, as though trying to frame an argument in his head and coming up with nothing. At last, he said, "Well I can't tell you about my potion either. You know, boy stuff."

 _"All right,"_ said Lily, losing her patience. "God, I said all right three times."

They stared at each other, both lost in their own stubbornness for a moment before Severus deflated and glanced at the oven. "Does it smell like something's burning to you?"

Lily, who had somehow forgotten entirely about the biscuits, sprang toward the little plastic rooster-shaped timer and saw that the dial was still set at ten minutes. "Oh sodding – it didn't ever start, the piece of rubbish, it never even began running." The rooster was dropped unceremoniously into the sink and began ticking as Lily jumped toward the oven and threw open the door. "How long do you think they've been in there?"

"Too long," said Severus, moving to her side to peer into the heat himself. "Those ones in the back look a little, er…well we should take them out."

There was nothing of it. Lily slumped down at the somewhat-clean table and buried her head in her arms with a moan as Severus pulled the tray from the oven and set it atop the stove.

"They're…they're all right," he said.

As her face was still pressed against her arms, Lily's response sounded something along the lines of, "Ngggroughffff."

"I mean," said Severus, inspecting one of the blackened biscuits with the tip of a spoon, "I quite like burnt biscuits."

"Tschhhhraaawnemay," said Lily.

Looking torn, he turned away from the tray and patted Lily awkwardly on the shoulder. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I'll still eat them," he said. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

Lily gave him a watery laugh. "I'm sorry, Sev. You were right. I'm a rubbish cook."

"It's not your fault the stupid Muggle timer didn't work."

The smell of burnt ginger was becoming overpowering. Despite the dreary December cold, Lily stood to open the window above the sink, remaining there for a moment to let the fresh chill wash over her face before turning back toward him. "This was a terrible idea. I just gave you the worst Christmas gift you've ever gotten or ever will get for the rest of your life."

"Lily…"

"No. When you are old and wrinkly and your great-grandchild gives you a picture frame made of crusted bogeys, it will be a better gift than the one I've given you today."

"Don't say that…"

"And you gave me such a nice, beautiful quill…the most beautiful quill I've ever seen, and my clever idea was for the two of us to become Muggle bakers for the afternoon when I've never been able to cook anything in my life…"

"Lily…"

"I am a rubbish friend, Severus Snape. Throw me in the bin, drag me to the street, let the vultures peck out my eyeballs…"

"Lily!" he said loudly, laughing at her dramatics. She stopped her monologue and gave him a sheepish grin. "Yesterday my dad gave me an old, rolled-up _TVTimes_ issue from six months ago. Yours isn't even the worst gift I've received this _week_."

"That's…that's awful," said Lily, caught off-guard by his laughter.

"Yeah," he shrugged, his laughter petering out. He plucked one of the burnt biscuits off of the tray and tossed it between his fingers a few times to cool it before taking a tentative bite. Lily watched as he pursed his lips and drew in a stream of cool air before chewing. There seemed to be more crunching going on than was usually necessary.

"Well?" she pressed, once the lump in his throat bobbed up and down to signal that he had swallowed and the look on his face had faded from full grimace to more of an anxious wince.

He seemed to be going through some sort of internal struggle with how to answer her. "It's not so…it's not so bad."

Now it was her turn to laugh, and though she tried to stifle it with her palm, it burst forth into the kitchen rather more loudly than she had anticipated. "You should…you should see your face! Hah! You look like someone's forced you to drink a Stinksap solution! Don't!" she shrieked, jumping toward him and smacking the rest of the biscuit out of his hand before he could take another bite. "Are you mad? Why would you eat more of that?"

"I don't know," he said, his eyes on the remains of the biscuit that had shattered on the tile floor like glass. "Er…are you all right?"

She wasn't certain if he was talking about the fact that she had just been dramatically teary or the fact that she was now giggling uncontrollably. Or perhaps it was the combination of the two.

"Yes, I'm fine!" she choked between laughs. "I should be asking _you_ that. You're the one who…hah!…just risked life and limb to taste one of those monstrosities." She calmed her laughter and then said, overly seriously, "Are you feeling faint, Sev? Is your life flashing before your eyes? Do you want to tell me where your will and testament are stashed prior to your imminent demise?"

He chuckled as he bent down to pick up the many sharp pieces of biscuit that now littered the floor. "I don't think that'll be necessary." The charred pieces now in his hand, he straightened back up and gazed at them awkwardly. "What should I do with these?"

"Here." Using the wet tea towel as a buffer between her hand and the still-hot metal, Lily picked up the biscuit tray and held it out for him to deposit the pieces onto. Then she strode over to the bin and proceeded to dump the entire contents of the tray into it. When she turned back to him he was giving her a guilty, pitying look. "Sorry," she muttered. "I mean, about binning your Christmas present."

"It's for the best," Severus said, nodding sagely, his lips twitching. "Just do me a favor, all right?"

"Anything."

"For my birthday, maybe just ask the house elves to make me biscuits for you?"

From the depths of the sink, the plastic rooster dinged.

* * *

"…and so there I am, in the middle of the street in bloody _Budapest_ , and Fenwick's disappeared to who knows where with his girl, and I've got nothing on but some trainers and the bath towel, and who should tap me on the shoulder?"

Edgar Bones threw triple knaves onto the table and looked up at James and Sirius, who were listening with avid attention. Next to his brother, Stuart was doubled up in laughter, his hand of cards pressed up against his torso as he held his quivering stomach. There was, James supposed, nothing to make him feel quite as special or quite as grown up as being allowed to play Arcana in the billiards room with the Bones brothers after dinner. Though for years he had been watching them play on Boxing Day, usually accompanied by cousins or uncles, he had never before been invited to participate. Now, though, he and Sirius sat around the square card table with Stuart and Edgar, throwing insufficient cards and listening to Edgar recount stories from his world travels.

"Who?" asked James at the same time Sirius gleefully answered, "The girl!"

"The girl!" roared both Edgar and Stuart, and even Edgar couldn't contain the breath of chuckles that fell forth from his mouth.

"From the night before?" pressed James, having almost entirely forgotten about the cards in his hand. "From the dragon training facility? The one with the birthmark?"

"Right you are. Size of a bloody giantess, she was, with these eyes that just…and these lips that just…" Apparently the virtues of her eyes and lips could not be adequately expressed in words, for Edgar clinched his face in what must have been some sort of vision of recalled ecstasy and didn't finish his thought. "Anyway, she taps me on the shoulder, holds out my wand to me, and says –" He put on an accent that he must have supposed sounded Hungarian, but in actuality ventured closer to French, "I haff found your waahnd. I beleeef it fell out from your tow-eel. Or, from somewheeer beneeef your tow-eel.'"

All three of Sirius, James, and Stuart burst into laughter. "'From somewheeer beneeef your tow-eel,'" Stuart repeated, wiping at his tears of mirth. "It gets me every time."

"So anyway," Edgar continued, once everyone had settled down and Sirius had played his hand, "I grabbed my wand, gave her a very grateful kiss –"

"Had to stand on the tips of his toes for that," laughed Stuart, nudging James.

"– and Apparated the hell away from there. Didn't see Fenwick again until we met up in Vienna the next week. And _that's_ why I'm a wanted man in Budapest." He took a sip of the glass of firewhisky in front of him as Stuart threw a paltry low straight on the table. Smirking triumphantly, Edgar swiped the played cards and held up the lone card left in his hand for them to see. "And I believe, lads, that this means the last trick is mine," he said, throwing down the queen of spades.

"Oh not so fast," said Stuart, as both James and Sirius winced and threw down their inadequate eight of spades and ten of hearts, respectively. "I know your tricks all too well, Eddie – no pun intended – what with your picking the most opportune time to tell the Budapest story which you _know_ always gets me laughing, but I am not so easily distracted."

With a flourish, Stuart revealed the queen of hearts, causing Edgar to groan in disbelief and Sirius and James to snigger at his gall.

"You jammy bastard, you were holding onto the Miss the entire round?" said Edgar, outraged.

"Indeed I was, big brother. Maybe next time you should pay more attention to the cards and less to your whimsical tales of traveling debauchery." With a wicked grin, Stuart plucked out the cigarette that had been tucked behind his ear during the round, barely poking out from his brown curls.

"You're not really going to smoke that in here?" asked Edgar, warily eyeing the cigarette as Stuart popped it between his lips.

"Those were our terms on the game, were they not? And seeing as my lovely Miss and I just kicked all of your arses from here to Budapest, I'm entitled to my smoke now."

The ice in Edgar's glass clinked harmonically as he took another swig and gave Stuart a disapproving look. "Just do us all a favor and vanish the smoke, then. You're a terrible influence, Stu, you know that?"

"And ever since you started dating Megan you've become an old, stodgy woman, Eddie, you know that?" said Stuart, lighting his cigarette with the tip of his wand and taking a long drag before winking at Sirius.

"I've an idea," said Sirius, pulling the pile of cards toward him and arranging them in a tight pile to shuffle, "for the wager on this round."

Edgar laughed and vanished the puff of smoke that his brother just expelled into the air. "All right, the Black's come to play. Let's hear it then."

Sirius grinned and flipped the deck of cards through his fingers, shuffling them thoroughly. From the sitting room down the hall, there was a great roar of laughter and all four of them froze for a moment as if caught in wrongdoing before turning back to their conversation.

"We'll take a page out of Stu's book, here," said Sirius, sharing a conspiratorial look with James and then nodding to the bottle of firewhisky that sat on the floor next to Edgar, "and if either James or I wins the round, you let us try some of that firewhisky."

Stuart snorted as Edgar slugged him in the shoulder. "What did I tell you? Terrible influence, you are."

"You're the one sucking down Ogden's over there like a three-Knut whore, you great hypocrite!"

"I think it's a brilliant idea," James said.

Edgar raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh you do, do you? And what will we get if either Stu or I wins the round?"

James leaned back in his chair and tried to appear more confident than he felt when he said, "If you or Stu wins, then I won't pop into the sitting room afterward and tell my mum and your mum that you two have been corrupting us with firewhisky and fags and stories of giant Hungarian witches."

Stuart chuckled and Edgar let out a low whistle, eyeing James with skepticism or, perhaps, admiration. "Look at James, trying to blackmail us…"

"They grow up so fast…"

"All right," said Edgar, a bit of laughter slipping from his lips as though against his better intentions, "if you win we'll give you a few sips of the whisky, you little bastards, but I'll warn you now, it burns going down."

Nodding, Stuart exhaled a stream of curling smoke and then vanished it quickly. "And it burns more coming back up so, mind you, don't get sick."

Sirius grinned and began sliding the properly shuffled cards across the table to each of them in turn. "Deal," he said. "No pun intended."

"Terrible influences, we are," repeated Edgar, shaking his head.

"We never agreed to be role models, Eddie, it's just the burden we bear for being so interesting and charismatic and good looking…"

"And modest, you can't forget that…"

"Right you are, brother," said Stuart as Sirius finished dealing the hand. "If we teach you anything, lads, as your newly appointed and very influential role models, let it be the importance of modesty. The best method of exerting your brilliance is pretending to not be aware of it." He took a long drag, his lips pursed around the cigarette and his cheeks hollowed inward and then added, before even releasing the smoke, "Now let's get back to the cards before you all forget how bloody ace I am at Arcana, eh?"

They all laughed and played a few hands, commenting and ribbing one another here and there, before Sirius, whose mind was still on Edgar's Budapest story, asked, "Have you got any other good stories from your world travels, then, Eddie?"

"Many," said Edgar, discarding and rapping the table once with his knuckles so that Sirius threw him a new card from the deck, "but seeing how James here is blackmailing me with his knowledge of my sordid tales, I'll need to have a fair bit more firewhisky before I loosen my tongue again."

James swiped the trick from the table triumphantly. "No blackmailing necessary, Eddie, because there's no chance I don't win this round, just you wait."

"What about you, Stu?" Sirius continued. "Did you go on the Grand Tour when you finished Hogwarts too?"

"Not me." Stuart ashed his cigarette and stared at the cards in his hand a little too fervently to come off as completely casual. "Thought about it, but had other things to do round here, so my gallivanting abroad has been indefinitely postponed."

"Things to do?" asked James. "Like what?"

"Like chasing some skirt," added Edgar, and James was reminded forcefully of the way he and Sirius covered for one another when they were sidestepping the truth. "But that Kamana girl was worth it, surely."

"Like hell she was," Stuart muttered, throwing a pair of sixes down and swiping the trick. "High-maintenance bint she was. But I had other endeavors, didn't I? Couldn't turn down the lucrative opportunity to tend bar in London, could I?"

"It seems brilliant,"

"Tending bar in London? You and I have a very different definition of brilliant, mate."

"No, not that…the world tour after Hogwarts…you know they say Quidditch was invented in Japan – by Brits who got blown off course, of course – but I'd still like to go and see," said James. He looked at Sirius and raised his eyebrows. "What do you say? We finish school and go on the Grand Tour, you and me?"

"We should probably warn Japan now so they can start preparing," quipped Stuart.

"All right," shrugged Sirius as Edgar took the latest trick. "So long as we don't have to go to France."

"Amen to that," said Stuart and Edgar in unison.

James was feeling pretty confident about his chances to win the game when Sirius pulled the cards toward him to deal the last hand; as long as he was dealt the Miss, he'd get the win. They never found out who would have won that game, though, as Sirius had only dealt them each a few cards when a great flash of golden light exploded on the card table, leaving behind a small scroll of parchment and a long golden feather. They all gave cries of shock and pushed away from the table, Stuart and Edgar leaping to their feet.

"Shit…fuck…Fawkes…" breathed Stuart, who had burned his finger on his cigarette when he had leapt up and was now shaking his hand as if trying to fling the pain from it. _"Now?"_

"What's going on?" asked James, looking from one brother to the other in confusion.

Edgar ignored him and grabbed at the scroll, tapping it with his wand to unfurl it, his eyes flying over it as if trying to absorb the words instead of simply reading them.

"What's it say?" pressed Sirius, who was now, too, on his feet.

"Yeah, what is that? Who's it from?"

"Bristol," Edgar told Stuart, barely moving his lips as if doing so could block Sirius and James out of the conversation entirely. He looked back down at the parchment and then back up at his brother. "It's Orpington. _Fuck._ We've got to go. Now."

"You've got to _go_?" repeated James, incredulous, but no one paid him any attention at all.

Stuart was suddenly alert, his eyes wide, all traces of good humor vanished from his countenance. He stubbed what remained of his cigarette out on the table and vanished it in one fluid motion, straightening his shoulders and gazing at his brother with hesitance. "You all right to Apparate? How many of those have you–"

He glanced at the glass of firewhisky that was half-full and dripping condensation onto the card table. Edgar shook his head. "I'm fine. Not many. I'm fine."

"All right then," Stuart nodded. Edgar handed him the parchment, which Stuart looked at intensely for several moments, as if trying to memorize it. Then he straightened again and set the parchment on fire. It was a pile of ashes within seconds, and Stuart vanished that, too. "Ready?"

"Now hold on," said James, finally standing up like everyone else. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"James, look, we can't explain," said Stuart, acknowledging the younger boys for the first time since the mysterious feather and scroll had appeared. "We need you to be cool."

"Cool?" repeated James, dumbfounded.

"It's nothing to worry about," Edgar added, looking from James to Sirius with the utmost seriousness, "but we'll need you to cover for us with the old folks out there." He tilted his head toward the sitting room.

"Why? Where are you going?" James was now starting to get annoyed. "Why can't you tell us?"

"We'll…we'll explain later, mate," said Stuart. "But look, we don't have time to get caught up saying goodbyes. You two just…just tell them that Eddie wasn't feeling well and I took him home, and give them our regards, all right?" His eyes slid from James to Sirius, who was staring intently at him.

"All right," agreed Sirius. James spun toward his best friend, gawking at him.

"Good man. We'll explain later." Stuart said again, turning back to Edgar. "Let's go."

And without another glance, Edgar and Stuart turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack. The golden feather on the table vanished at the exact same moment.

"What's going on?" James asked Sirius, hoping he would have some sort of insight as to what had just transpired.

"No idea," said Sirius, as casual as ever. "Must have been important though. Look, we should go make their excuses and then claim we're turning in for the night, but first," he nodded toward the bottle of firewhisky, sitting forgotten on the floor by Edgar's vacated chair, and gave James a mischievous smile, "we should go stash that in your room."

James snorted, his confusion and concern over the Bones's sudden departure fading into excitement at the idea of trying some firewhisky. "Hullo," he said, leaning over to pluck the glass bottle off the floor. It was still more than half-full. "Not a _terrible_ turn of events, I reckon."

"Plus," said Sirius, as they made toward the door to the room, "Stu gave me some good information earlier that I've got to tell you."

"Stu?"

"Yeah, when we were in the kitchen before dinner."

James tucked the bottle into his robes and crossed his arms over it awkwardly. "You were in the kitchen with Stu? That's where you disappeared to?"

Sirius grinned and lowered his voice to a whisper as they crept down the corridor toward the staircase, keeping out of sight of the sitting room where a large group of adults was still congregated. "Yep. We were sneaking a smoke."

"You were – _he_ _let you have a fag_?"

"Keep it down," Sirius laughed while James goggled at him. They turned the corner and hurried up the stairs, not speaking again until they were hidden away in James's bedroom.

"I can't believe this," James muttered, stashing the bottle safely underneath his pillow and then turning to frown at Sirius. "You were off getting to smoke with Stu while I was having my cheeks pinched by his great auntie Anne. You lucky git."

"Look, let's go give their cover story and then come back here and I'll tell you all about it with the firewhisky, yeah?" When James gave a grudging nod, Sirius's grin only widened. "This has got to be the best Boxing Day in history."

James gave him a punch to the shoulder as they walked back out onto the upstairs landing, which, all in all, made him feel marginally better.

* * *

Something was not right.

Perhaps it was some sort of instinct or intuition that alerted him to this, or perhaps it was the fact that the clock on the wall showed three o'clock in the morning and all the lamps were still lit in his room, or perhaps it was that Sirius was asleep next to him on the bed, both of them having passed out on top of the bedding, but James knew that something was not right.

He sat up and scrubbed his eyes, peering around the room in blurry confusion before grabbing at the spectacles that poked out from underneath his pillow and shoving them onto his face. The bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky laid innocently between him and Sirius, and James stared at it, trying and failing to remember falling asleep. The amber liquid winked at him in the light and he noticed that – embarrassingly – the bottle was still half-full. He couldn't recall taking more than two sips of it before passing out and, based on the sight of his friend curled up and drooling on the bed next to him, Sirius hadn't lasted any longer than him.

"Sirius," James muttered, poking his arm none too gently. "Wake up, will you?"

Sirius responded by burying his head under one bent elbow.

"You fell asleep on my bed, you idiot, go get in your own bed."

Sirius swatted at the poking hand that was intruding so rudely on his slumber.

"Get up, you great –" James cut off and froze. There had been a loud thump downstairs, and now that he was listening with pricked ears, he could hear voices too. As if to ensure that he had read it correctly the first time, he looked at the clock again. 3:04 AM. "Sirius," he said, his voice low and urgent now.

The abrupt change in James's tone must have pulled Sirius out of his dreamland, for he opened one eye and squinted up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Do you hear that? There's people downstairs."

"It's probably your parents, still carrying on and having a good time with their mates."

"No – no way, there's no way. It's after three in the morning."

Sirius groaned and sat up, rubbing one hand over his face and frowning blearily at James. "So what, who do you think it is, then? Some sort of burglars?"

"Maybe," acknowledged James, pulling himself off the bed and digging clumsily through his school bag. When he straightened again, he was shaking out his silvery cloak. Sirius stared at him. "Come on, let's go check it out. Have you got your wand?"

With a yawn and a resigned nod, Sirius climbed off the bed and moved to join James, looking distinctly rumpled. "If it's burglars, they're not doing much of a job at being quiet, are they?" he grumbled as James threw the cloak over them both and they crept into the hall.

He had a point. The closer they got to the top of the stairs, the louder, more recognizable, and more panic-stricken the voices became.

"…and, God, they just came out of nowhere, dozens of them, and they had wards up…couldn't Apparate away if our lives depended on it…which they _did_ …and Stu was caught up in the house…and…oh Merlin, oh Christ…if you die, you right bastard, I'll bloody kill you, you hear?"

"Is that…is that _Edgar_ talking?" whispered Sirius, the pair of them pausing halfway down the staircase to look at each other in confusion and fear, almost.

"Did he say _die_?" James said, his ears suddenly feeling as if they had been plugged with cotton.

Sirius nudged him forward and they descended the remaining stairs as one, creeping across the foyer toward the sitting room, from where a warm, comforting voice floated familiarly toward them.

"He's not going to die. Do you hear me, Stuart, you are _not going to die."_ It was James's mother, but she sounded different than usual. _"_ Hand me that dittany, Fleamont… There we go, there's a good lad, Stuart. Edgar – _Edgar –_ calm down, dear, and give him this potion. Tilt his head back, just like that…there we go…"

Forgetting that they were entirely invisible, they peered around the corner of the sitting room wall. Perhaps it was lucky that at that moment, Stuart Bones let out a low, piteous moan, for it masked the sound of James's gasp at the sight that was before them: Stuart, pale as death, lying prone in the shadow of the massive Christmas tree, with Edgar cradling his head and James's mother kneeling at his side, strumming her wand across his torso, where something was blossoming like a horrible, flattened summer bloom, it's tendrils leaking out across the rug toward the shoes of James's father, who was pacing. Blood. Lots of it. Too much of it. Ludicrous amounts of it pooled on the floor and streaked across Euphemia Potter's arms and saturating Edgar's robes. James swayed. He felt Sirius tense next to him.

"We've got to get him to St. Mungo's," James's father murmured, crouching down at Stuart's feet and holding them steady as if for something to do to occupy himself.

"We can't," Edgar cried. Even from across the room, James could see him shaking. "Like I said before, they know they got one of us. They'll be at St. Mungo's, waiting for someone to be brought in. I didn't know…I didn't know where to go…"

"He'll be all right," said James's mother, pausing in her ministrations to reach over and squeeze Edgar's hand. "The dittany's staunched the bleeding, he'll be all right. You did well, Edgar, getting him here."

"Hear that?" James almost crumpled in relief at the sound of Stuart's voice, as faint as it was. "I'll be fine, Eddie. You won't have to kill me for dying, after all."

"That's right, you'll be fine," James mother assured him, working her wand over the wound. "Only this was dark magic, I can tell. I'm not sure I'll be able to do much aesthetically…you'll have a scar, I'm afraid."

"That's all right, Mrs. Potter." Stuart's words were garbled together as if his mouth wasn't working completely, but there was still a habitual joking tone to them. "The birds'll love a scar…makes me more manly, yeah, Eddie? Are you crying on my head, you great prat?"

Edgar only sniffed and wiped at his face as James's father straightened again and resumed his pacing. "Matilda Orpington? She's…"

"Dead," Edgar confirmed, meeting Fleamont's gaze with red eyes. "Was dead when we got there, and there were others too. Maybe…five or six total? Caius Doge. I didn't recognize anyone else, but I didn't get a good look before they started attacking. They took the bodies…I…I don't know why they would, but they did…"

"And Voldemort?"

 _Voldemort_. As though from a different life, James remembered Sirius telling him this name only a few hours before. They had not given it too much thought, more preoccupied with the way the firewhisky burned their throats and made them lightheaded.

"Gone," groaned Stuart from the floor. James's mother shushed him.

"Gone," repeated Edgar. "We thought maybe when…but no, it doesn't matter…he was gone a few minutes later."

James had had enough. Still outside the sitting room, he raised his eyebrows at Sirius, who gave him a one-shoulder shrug, and pulled the cloak from their heads. They did not waste another second before hurrying into the room and startling everyone.

"What's going on?" he said, staring from one surprised face to the next. "We heard you talking and Stu, oh Merlin…" The sight of the blood was much worse than it had been from the hall. Redder and thicker and _more_ , somehow. James swayed again and his father moved toward them, clearly trying to block their view.

"Boys, now's not the time –"

James sidestepped him and moved toward his mother. The sleeves of her dressing gown were soaked through with blood. "What happened to Stu?"

"James, dear, go upstairs with your father," said his mother, clearly torn between moving toward her son and tending to her patient. "Stuart's going to be fine, all right? He's going to be fine."

"No," James said, defiant. He glanced at Sirius, who was frozen near the doorway, his eyes glued to the blood on the floor. "Stu looks like he's been ripped apart by a manticore and Eddie's here crying –"

"No, I'm _not…_ "

"– and we heard you talking about Voldemort and that Orpington witch and bodies and we want to know what's going on!"

"James," said his father calmly, a heavy hand now on his shoulder, "Stuart will be just fine, and you've had a shock, but let the grown ups worry about it for now and…"

"No!" James said again, louder this time. He looked into his dad's familiar face, ready to scream or cry or hit something. There was smudge of blood on his cheek. James softened. "Dad, please…please just tell us what's going on. Please."

In the beat that followed, his parents exchanged a look that might have contained a lengthy conversation, for all its intensity. Edgar stood up and crossed his arms, his eyes still cast down at his brother, looking simultaneously much younger than his twenty-one years and like an old, beaten man. The room felt strangely small despite its vaulted ceiling and sprawling size. His eyes locked on his father, waiting for the rejection, the denial, the pacification, James formed his argument. Mainly, it centered around the fact that he was _not_ a child. Nevertheless, he could smell the blood in the room. He was scared.

"All right," his father said at last, gravel in his voice. "Go to the kitchen, I'll be there in a few minutes and we can talk."

"But –"

"Go, James. Have Ant make you both a cup of tea and send Flora in here to help us. I'm going to help make Stuart more comfortable and then I'll meet you there, okay? All right, Sirius?"

Sirius swallowed and nodded, finally pulling his gaze away from the blood on the floor. "All right. Come on, James."

He did as he was told. It wasn't until Flora had hurried off to the sitting room and Ant had placed two steaming cups of tea on the kitchen table in front of them that they finally spoke.

"What _the hell_ is going on?" James breathed.

Sirius shook his head, his face white, his eyes wide, but said nothing.

After a minute of silence, James, his voice cracking in a way that would have embarrassed him under different circumstances, said, "He's going to be okay. He'll be okay, right? Stu will?"

Something passed across Sirius's face. Resolve, maybe. He nodded automatically. "He'll be fine. Your mum's a good Healer. She said he'd be fine." Stubbornness, James realized, not resolve. It was as if Sirius was trying to will Stuart healthy with his own stubbornness.

"All right," James said, staring into his teacup, immensely grateful that Sirius was here beside him. That he was not alone.

After half an hour, the door that separated the kitchen from the corridor swung open and James's father walked in. He had, in the interim, pulled a dressing gown on over his blue pajamas, and James was relieved to note that there was no blood on him anymore, at least that they could see.

"Is he –"

"Stuart is going to be fine," his father said, lowering himself gingerly into the chair across from James and Sirius. "He's asleep upstairs, as is Edgar. Your mother has given them both a sleeping potion so that they'll be able to get some rest."

"What happened to him?"

"Thank you, Ant," he said, as the tiny elf set a third cup of tea in front of him. "Please go help Flora tidy up the sitting room, if you don't mind."

"Oh, yes sir, of course, right away, sir!"

James waited until the door had swung shut behind the elf before he pressed again. "Dad –"

"I only know what Edgar told us about what happened tonight, James, and he was in a right state, so I have only the bits and pieces." His father sighed and ran a hand through his white hair. "According to Edgar, he and Stuart left here early to meet Edgar's girlfriend and a few of her friends, though of course they asked you to lie for them and say that Edgar had fallen ill. It was unnecessary, as they are both full-grown wizards and may come and go as they please, but that is beyond the point." James exchanged a quick, confused glance with Sirius. He was pretty sure the feather and parchment that had appeared on the card table were not from any girlfriend. Why would Edgar lie about the lie?

"Apparently they were in Bristol," his father continued, "when they heard a commotion – screaming – and saw something in the sky that drew their attention, so they went to investigate. What they found was a house that was being used as a hideout for a group of Dark wizards."

"Led by him? By that madman? Voldemort?" Sirius asked

"Yes. It sounds as if Edgar and Stuart took some of them on, or maybe – I don't know – maybe they alerted Dumbledore first and then went in, it's unclear to me, but somehow they saw some…some bodies and then Stuart took a terrible curse to the stomach, which you saw, and eventually they made their way back here so that your mother could help him. I daresay if it had been much longer, he might not have…" He faded off, shifting to look at both of the boys closely.

"Dumbledore?" James asked. "What's Dumbledore got to do with anything?"

"Voldemort has been gaining power for the last several years. He's amassed a Dark and dangerous following. The Ministry has been turning a blind eye to the disappearances and violence. Dumbledore has not. He's spoken out against Voldemort, has even dueled with him a few times, from what I hear. People are beginning to say he's the only wizard Voldemort is afraid of."

"But…but I don't understand," said James. His insides felt as if they had turned to jelly and the cotton was back over his ears. "What's he want? This Voldemort bloke? Why would he _kill_ people? I mean, what's he playing at?"

But it was Sirius who answered, not James's father. His voice was steel, his eyes stormy. "Muggle-borns. He hates Muggles and Muggle-borns."

"That's right," James's father said, meeting Sirius's hard gaze for a long moment before jerking his head in a nod. "He believes Muggles are lesser, and he believes Muggle-borns need to be…need to be weeded out of our world."

"Weeded out?" James repeated, horrified. "But that's absurd. That's…that's… I mean, people will do something. No one's going to just go along with that kind of rubbish."

"I hope you're right about that," his father said quietly. "I really do."

They fell into silence, each lost in his own distressed thoughts. James fidgeted with his teacup until he remembered he was supposed to drink it. He was cold. He hadn't realized until now how cold the house was. The Warming Charms from the day before had worn off and had not yet been recast for the following morning. He wished he had thought to drink his tea when it was hot. Beside him, Sirius sat frozen, staring into nothing. James thought he might be in some sort of shock. It was beyond rare to encounter a version of Sirius Black that was quiet and stationary. This only added to James's disturbed thoughts.

"I reckon it's time for you boys to get back to bed," said his father after a while. He seemed calm, wary, resigned. "It's very late – or early, I guess – and we've all had a bit too much excitement for one day."

"All right," James said, feeling too overwhelmed at the moment to continue the conversation anyway.

"Are you okay, Sirius?" James's father asked, surveying him with concern.

"Can we – can we ask…" Sirius fidgeted, meeting the man's eye and then looking away again. "I mean, tomorrow, can we ask more questions?"

"You may," he answered kindly. "I won't be able to answer them all, I'm sure. Much of this situation is a mystery to me as well. But you may both certainly ask."

Sirius nodded, swallowed hard.

"It's going to be all right, boys," said James's father as they all got to their feet. He put a warm hand on each of their shoulders. James fought the instinct to lean into him like a child. "These things will work out soon, I'm sure. Dark magic always burns itself out, in the end."

It occurred to James once he was cocooned back in his bed and unable to fall asleep, that there was something profoundly unsettling in realizing that for the very first time, he didn't believe the words coming out of his father's mouth.


	30. 3-9 or 'A Bit of Cheering Up'

_A/N: Thank you for reading! I do not own Harry Potter, in case you've somehow confused me with JK Rowling._

* * *

 **Chapter 30 - 3.9 or "A Bit of Cheering Up"**

* * *

The photos were splashed across the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ on the 28th of December with no remorse or care given as to who might see them – loved ones, children, those who had not heard the news. Above them screamed the headline, MASS MURDER, MINISTRY BREACHED, and below them, the accompanying articles provided very little concrete information, fueling panic and confusion across the wizarding world like a contagion.

 _"…discovered by a Ministry watchwizard on the morning of 28 December during standard security rounds…"_

Bodies. Five of them.

 _"…strung up, as though by invisible ropes, as can be seen in the photograph above…"_

Gruesome, floating bodies, their limp hands pulled above their heads like dusty, forgotten marionettes.

 _"…yet to be identified, with the exception of Matilda Orpington, who was reported missing three weeks ago…"_

Their faces blurred clumsily out of the photos, as if as an afterthought.

 _"…suspected to be the work of an anti-establishment faction of wizards that, top sources are reporting, are led by a sorcerer called Lord Voldemort…"_

It was lucky, in hindsight, that for Christmas that year, Remus's parents had gifted him his first subscription to the _Daily Prophet_ , for otherwise, his father may not have told him anything about the terrible happenings and Remus would have been blindsided upon returning to Hogwarts for the new term. As it was, though, he had nearly as much information as James and Sirius when they reunited on the Hogwarts Express the following week, and the three boys spent the vast majority of the train ride discussing the strange events and, somewhat worriedly, conjecturing on the noticeable absence of one Peter Pettigrew.

"Probably just missed the train," Sirius suggested. "With all the security on the platform slowing things down, it'd be easy to do."

"Must be it," nodded James. "He'd owl us otherwise for cert."

Another theory was posed after the trolley witch had been by that afternoon, when Adin Balini stopped into their compartment to say hello (Remus became suddenly distracted by his own fingers) and to report that many parents had decided to bring their children back to Hogwarts personally instead of allowing them to ride the train. Goomer and Raeanne were among the group and had sent Mary Macdonald an owl that morning telling her not to worry, that they would meet her back at Hogwarts that evening.

But Peter, unlike Goomer and Raeanne, didn't show up that evening at dinner, and when the boys turned in for the night, casting loaded, concerned glances at one another, Peter's bed remained empty.

"We've Transfiguration after morning break," said James, poking at his eggs the next morning with rather less gusto than usual. "We'll ask McGonagall where he is then."

"You think she'll tell us?" asked Remus.

"They've got to tell us _something_. Our friend's missing. And if McGonagall doesn't know, we'll head up to the Owlery at lunch and send him a letter, straight away. Right Sirius? Sirius?"

Sirius, though, did not appear to be listening at all, and was staring with a strange, intent look on his face at the Slytherin table. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was more subdued than usual, with students talking quietly to one another, conducting more serious conversations than the laughter and lighthearted chatter that was standard, but the Slytherin table was a different story. Great shouts of mirth rang out from groups surrounding Marshall Avery and Rabastan Lestrange and Dexter Selwyn and many other Slytherins who Remus could not name. They seemed…happy. At the very least, they did not reflect the hesitance of the rest of the student population.

"Bunch of slimy berks," Sirius said, glowering at the Slytherins. "Look at them all over there, all smug and cheerful…"

James turned in his seat to glance at the Slytherin table before spinning back around and giving them both a wry grin. "I'm sure we can think of something to take them down a few notches."

After the mayhem at the end of the first term, an assault on the Slytherins was not exactly the way that Remus wanted to start the new year. He decided his best tactic was to distract his friends before they started scheming. "James, you can't send Ari off to Peter this morning. He still hasn't gotten back from his delivery to Stuart, remember?"

James and Sirius, of course, had spent a considerable bit of time filling Remus in on the events of Boxing Day at the Potter house, including the subsequent morning when Edgar and a pale, weakened Stuart had left the house with an unsatisfying goodbye. James had been sending Ari off to them every day since, trying to garner a more detailed explanation for what had transpired when they had disappeared so abruptly that night. The Bones brothers had, most frustratingly, remained silent.

"Oh yeah," James said, swallowing down a mouthful of egg. "We can send a school owl, then. Ari's no good in the snow anyhow."

Sirius, though, was not so easily distracted. "I'm thinking we revert back to form and get the entire house with something," he told James in a voice low enough that Hestia Jones, who was sitting on the other side of Remus, would not be able to hear him. "None of this singling anyone out rubbish. Show the entire house that they're no better than anyone else."

"They _are_ better than everyone else, though," said James in mock seriousness. "Better at smelling like an old pile of rotting rubbish."

"Snivelly's odor must be wearing off on them all," agreed Sirius.

"How could it not? Sharing a dormitory with him…" Both James and Sirius shivered dramatically. "It's a wonder they don't make him sleep in the Forbidden Forest to keep the stench away…"

"Ah, just imagine the possibilities…a giant spider eats him in his sleep and nobody ever even realizes he's gone."

"It's not like anyone would _miss_ him."

"Rosier might," said Sirius, his lip curling as he watched the Slytherin in question stop on his way down the aisle to mention something to Snape. "What's he doing talking to _Snape_ , anyway?"

"Maybe he's explaining to him the fine art of a having a bath."

"He'll be talking for a while, then, I reckon."

Remus had learned a long time ago that it was no use to try and interrupt the pair of them when they got going like this, so he settled into his porridge and hoped that they would not rope him into whatever it was they would be planning against the Slytherins. Luckily, distraction arrived a few minutes later in the form of the post. There was a swell of chatter as the owls swooped into the Great Hall, backlit by the swirling, grey clouds, but the noise soon faded into a hesitant whisper as the students waited with apprehension to discover what news would be brought to them today. A tall, spotted owl dropped Remus's copy of the _Daily Prophet_ unceremoniously into his breakfast bowl, and he had just wiped off the porridge and had started to unfurl the tight roll when James's exclamation caused him to pause and look up at his friends.

" _Finally!_ Look, it's from Stu!"

James untied the letter from Ari's leg with hasty fingers. The owl nipped him affectionately before helping himself to a bit of James's bacon, but James did not seem to care. Remus and Sirius both watched as he tore into the envelope and peeled open the letter within, his eyes zooming back and forth across it at lightning speed.

"Well?" urged Sirius, after a few minutes of waiting that could – almost – be considered patient. Apparently it was a rather long letter.

James let out a noise that hovered somewhere between exasperation and confused frustration before thrusting the letter across the table at his friends. Sirius snatched it from him at once and Remus had to slide closer to him to be able to read it over his shoulder.

 _"James -_

 _Not exactly the king of subtlety, are you? I'd barely been able to crawl into bed and choke down a few Blood Replenishing Potions before your barrage of owls began, and, let me mention, I was a mite offended that you only asked me how I was feeling seven times. I mean, I about had all of my insides cursed out with one errant spell. You'd think I'd get a bit more sympathy from the kid who used to follow me around with his toy broomstick, begging me to play Knock with him. Eddie's been slaving day and night as my nursemaid, all teary-eyed and grateful that I'm not, you know,_ dead _or something. (Though Eddie's turned into a bit of a nancy since he started dating Megan – he'd have never been caught dead administering me pain potions before.) (Don't tell him I said that, I quite like having a manservant to attend to my every whim)._

 _Anyway, from your inability to accept my ignoring your letters as any sort of indication to stop asking questions, I've deduced that you want some more information about what happened the night I was so brutally and heroically maimed. I've decided, in an effort to allow you to stop writing me and get on with your life of mischief and snooping and general mayhem, to give you the overview of what actually occurred that evening._

 _You see, there's this girl. Sue. Her name is Sue. Sirius and I had a brief chat about her in the kitchen that night, you can ask him about it if he didn't mention it. Sue's a bitch, by the by, feel like I should mention that. Real stuck up, thinks she's the best witch to grace the earth since Agrippa. She needs to get her head out of her arse, if you ask me. Anyway, I digress. Sue took some things from some friends of mine, last time I saw her, and then ran off, so we'd been looking for her ever since. When you and Sirius and Eddie and I were playing Arcana that night, that letter we got was from a mutual friend, who had found Sue. Well, Eddie and I could hardly pass up the opportunity to go and see if we could get our friends' stuff back, but Sue's dodgy and doesn't stay in one place for long, so we knew we wouldn't have much time to yak about. Thanks for covering for us, by the way. My parents don't know much about Sue, and you know how parents are…the less you have to tell them about your personal life, the better._

 _So Eddie and I go off, meet up with the friends who had their stuff filched, and set out to ambush Sue. Only problem was that Sue's turned into a bit of a slag lately and had about twenty of her own friends with her when we found her, many of whom had clearly been partaking in some holiday cheer. They were rowdy and weren't interested in having a civil discourse with us about all that their darling Sue had taken. So we got into it a bit, us and them, and before long it was a full-on duel. Sue disappeared early. She's not one for fighting much herself, prefers others to do her dirty work, as it were. I took a curse to the gut. I'm sure you sorted that one out yourself. We weren't able to get any of our things back, either, so all in all it was a pretty rubbish outing, as far as outings go. But we put a bit of a worry into Sue, at the least, and we're hoping maybe she won't be as likely to go round nicking people's things so lax like in the future._

 _Hope this clears some questions up for you, James, and I reckon you'll let Sirius know what all this is about too, but don't go spreading it around, all right? I've got a reputation to uphold, after all, and if people start finding out that I let a girl like Sue get the best of me, well, I'll never hear the end of it from Eddie. So keep quiet and for the love of Merlin, give your poor owl a holiday…thing seems like he's going to keel over from utter exhaustion. I'm sure I'll be seeing you at the Cup this summer, so we can chat more then and you can ooh and ahh over my very manly and intimidating scar. And in the meantime, brush up on your card skills, mate. You're a shit Arcana player._

 _Best,_

 _Stu"_

Reaching the bottom of the letter, Remus looked up at his two friends, who were staring at each other as though trying to read the other's mind.

"Sue?" Sirius said, biting back a laugh. "Not very inventive, is he? Sue and Stu?"

Ensuring that no one around them was paying any attention (Hestia Jones was thoroughly entranced in her copy of the _Prophet_ ), Remus leaned in and whispered, "By 'Sue,' he means… _Voldemort_ …right?"

"Guess so," said James, who had taken back the letter from Sirius and was now frowning down at it once more. "Not a lot of information that we didn't already have, though. And what does he mean, I'm a shit Arcana player?"

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here," suggested Remus, looking around them again. "He said to keep quiet about it."

Sirius, of course, could not be dissuaded. "Reckon he had to make up that whole story in case the owl fell into the wrong hands, then?"

James nodded slowly. "Remember what Eddie said to my mum that night when she was fixing Stu up? It was something about how they couldn't go to St. Mungo's because the others knew they had cursed someone and would be watching to see if anyone was brought in."

"So whatever Eddie and Stu were doing there that night, and whoever they were with, it sounds like Voldemort's men didn't know who they were."

"They're operating in secrecy," said James, his eyes alight as if he had just unraveled some sort of exciting mystery.

Remus fidgeted before leaning in over the table to whisper, "Right. Secrecy. So let's not blab to the entire Great Hall about it now."

"All right, all right," said James, rolling his eyes as he folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket.

"We could skive off the first lesson," Sirius said, turning back to his sausage.

"Nah, we've Romielle. She's a stickler for attendance. We'll wait until break to suss it out."

"I thought we were going up to the Owlery at break?" Remus pointed out.

"And the Owlery seems like as good a place as any to have a private conversation, does it not?" said James. "So long as you don't care if the birds overhear."

Remus shrugged and finished unrolling his copy of the _Daily Prophet,_ hoping that it would be able to distract him from thoughts of Stuart and Voldemort and secret operations, but he was sorely mistaken. He took one glance at the front page and proceeded to drop the paper back onto the table in surprise.

"What?" James asked curiously as Sirius looked over Remus's shoulder at the paper.

"It's…well, they've released the names of the people they found in the Ministry," he said, collecting himself and grabbing at the paper once more. "And they've un-blurred the photographs."

He showed the front page to James, who grimaced. "Blimey, you'd think they'd have more taste than to run those photos every bloody day."

The top photo was, indeed, not something that any civilized person would want to look at, much less have thrust upon them as they tried to eat their breakfast. Today's image no longer had the blurs over the faces of the victims as the paper had used in the previous days, and their pale, expressionless faces made the image all the more haunting. They hung creepily in front of a fountain in the atrium of the Ministry, strung up and looking unnaturally elongated, like poultry in a butcher shop window. Remus swallowed and turned his attention to the article underneath the blaring headline, FALLEN FIVE IDENTIFIED.

 _"The Ministry of Magic has released the names of those individuals who have collectively come to be known as 'The Fallen Five,' whose bodies were discovered in the Ministry atrium on 28 December as part of an intimidation strategy by unknown wizards. Until this point, four of the deceased's identities have only been speculated upon, with the fifth being reported as Matilda Orpington…"_

"Read them aloud, will you?" said James, who was craning his neck in an attempt to get a view of the upside-down paper from across the table.

Remus steeled himself and began. "Matilda Orpington, 43, granddaughter of celebrated former Minister of Magic, Evangeline Orpington, and outspoken proponent for Muggle-born rights. Greta Grousle, 37, columnist for _Witch Weekly_ , whose October article 'How to Enchant Muggle Men with No Magic At All!' caused a stir among traditional readers. Caius Doge –"

"Doge!" James cut in. "Doge…remember we heard my parents talking about him? About how he had disappeared?"

"Caius Doge, 96," Remus went on. "Erstwhile barrister for the Wizengamot and known for taking particularly radical stances on issues of Muggle policy inclusion. Samuel Bernard, 51, head of the Department of Magical Transportation and the highest ranking Muggle-born currently employed by the Ministry of Magic. Denise Bernard, wife of Samuel Bernard. A Muggle." He looked up at his friends, the smell of the breakfast before him now making him rather queasy. "It's…awful."

"It's sick," agreed Sirius, his face dark. "They can't get away with this, the bastards."

"They can if the _Prophet_ keeps helping them like this," said Hestia Jones, who was packing up her things with angry haste and had evidently overheard their conversation. All three boys turned to look at her.

"The _Prophet_ helping them?" repeated James. "What do you mean?"

Remus had barely ever spoken with the seventh year, and only knew her name because she was a Gryffindor prefect. As it was, she stuffed her own copy of the paper into her bag and stood up with an aggravated huff.

"The pureblood propaganda they've been spouting ever since those poor people were found is what I mean," she said, with an unnecessary glare at both James and Sirius.

"What are you on about?" said Sirius. "None of this is pureblood rubbish, it's just reporting who the dead people are."

"Right," scoffed Hestia. "And you don't think that telling the world exactly how they are related to Muggles or Muggle-born rights is going to dissuade others from taking up those stances? That when purebloods like Caius Doge and Matilda Orpington are brutally murdered and strung up for everyone and their children to see, that doesn't cause other purebloods to stop sticking up for Muggle-borns? You may be a Gryffindor, Black, but you've a lot to learn."

And with that, she stalked away toward the entrance hall. Sirius looked at his friends in shock. "What did I ever do to her, anyway?"

They didn't have a chance to answer, though, because at that moment, Hestia's vacant seat was filled by none other than a harried, slightly pink Peter Pettigrew.

"Peter!"

"You're here!"

"Where in Merlin's name have you _been_?"

Several nearby students turned to glance at the boys' loud reactions to the sudden appearance of their friend. Peter slumped on the bench, clearly uncomfortable with all the eyes on him, his cheeks turning pinker by the second.

"My mother," he said as if delivering ghastly news, "is pregnant."

 _"What?"_

"You're joking!"

 _"Pregnant?"_

They all gaped at him.

"With a _baby?"_

"No, with a pony," James said to Sirius, rolling his eyes. Sirius threw a bit of bacon at James, which sailed by his ear and hit the back of a Hufflepuff's head at the next table over. The girl turned around, scowling, but Sirius just gave her a smile and a wave.

"Er," said Remus after a moment, "well…congratulations, Peter!"

"Yeah, big brother, eh?" added James, clearly trying to buoy his friend's spirits. "That's great!"

"No, it's not great," Peter mumbled. "A baby. My mum. Can you believe it? I mean, she's _old_."

"She's not nearly as old as my mum," James pointed out.

This did not seem to register for Peter. "What do they need another kid for, huh? They never mentioned wanting to have another baby before."

Sirius reached around Remus to cuff Peter on the shoulder. "Maybe it was an accident. Maybe your dad forgot his Charms, Pete."

"Eurgh!"

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

"You are sick in the head."

Sirius gave them a wicked grin and tore a rather large bite out of a waffle. "What? I'm just being practical here. You all _do_ know where babies come from, right?"

He could feel his neck getting hot, but Remus rolled his eyes anyway. "That doesn't mean you need to remind Peter about his parents…you know…"

"Shagging," supplied James unhelpfully.

Peter let out a piteous groan and plonked his face down into his arms. "Can we stop talking about this now, _please_?"

"Wait, no we can't stop talking about it!" said Sirius indignantly. "What does your mum being pregnant have to do with you not showing up on the train yesterday?"

"Yeah," added James, "is she so big that she was blocking the doorway or what? And why didn't you owl us?"

"No," Peter said, looking back up at them all with a miserable expression. "She's not even big yet, but she's gone completely mental. Barmy like. She was going on and on about how she didn't want me coming back to Hogwarts at all, how it's not safe."

"Hogwarts, not safe? You're joking. We've got Dumbledore!"

"I know that. And you know that. And anyone with a brain knows that. But apparently my mum's brain has been absorbed by her, you know, belly or whatever. She's been off her rocker ever since those people were found in the Ministry last week." Peter threw a quick glance at the front page of the paper that sat in front of Remus and then looked away quickly, shivering. "She says it could have been my dad, because he works night shifts sometimes, and it could have just as easily been him that found those people, or else ran across the wizards who were leaving them there…"

Based on the confused looks that James and Sirius exchanged with one another, Remus deduced that they had no idea what Mr. Pettigrew did for a living and had never given it a second's thought before. Remus, on the other hand, knew that Peter's father was a custodial worker at the Ministry of Magic and that Peter himself was not very keen on divulging that information freely. In an attempt to head off further discussion of the subject, Remus asked, "So how did you convince her to let you come back, Peter?"

Peter shook his head, wild-eyed. "I didn't, my dad did. Took him all day and night yesterday, but finally she agreed. He brought me back this morning, thank Merlin. I'd have gone mad if I had to stay in that house any longer. She's a complete nutter, I tell you."

"Well we're glad you're back," offered Remus kindly.

Peter didn't seem to even hear him, so intent was he in his own misery. "For Christmas, you know what she gave me? This little pillow that she stitched that says, 'Britain's Best Big Brother.'" He paused before repeating, as if for emphasis, "A _pillow_."

Both Sirius and James sniggered, but James was a bit more adept at hiding it. "All right, come on then," he said, leaning over the table toward Peter. He lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's get out of here and start planning. We're going to prank the Slytherins, and we need your help."

It was if a cloud shifted to allow the sun to once again shine on Peter's face. "Really? Me?"

"Of course," said James, leaning back again and grinning at them all with easy confidence.

From the back of his mind, Remus could hear his father's voice from the dinner table. _"Professor Dumbledore is risking his own neck by allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts, but a trouble-making werewolf? What if he decides it's not worth the risk?"_

He swallowed and summoned his nerve before saying, "Er, I thought we were going to lay off the pranks for a while. You know, after the stuff last term and your…erm…getting caught by Dumbledore and all?"

To this, of course, Sirius only laughed and said, "We're not going back to war, Remus, we're only going to be messing with the Slytherins."

"Yeah," added James, offering the plate of eggs to the newly rejuvenated Peter. "This school could use a bit of cheering up, and a laugh at the Slytherins' expense seems the best way to do it."

* * *

For Gin Leigh and the remaining Gryffindor third years, breakfast that morning had been a quiet affair. The atmosphere in the Great Hall crackled with cautious hesitance. No one really seemed to know what to say about the bodies found in the Ministry or if it would be callous to talk about normal, trivial things. Adin barely even glanced at her copy of _Your Daily Diviner,_ and did not insist on reading the horoscopes of everyone around her as she did most mornings. Goomer and Raeanne had their heads bent together, whispering fervently to one another. Mary, ever the studious pupil, worked on an extra credit paper for Professor Flitwick. Lily, in particular, seemed glum. She had not heard about the events at the Ministry until the previous morning, when Adin had apprised her of all the details after they reunited on the train. When everyone else was otherwise occupied with their breakfasts, she muttered to Gin that she desperately wanted to save enough money to buy herself an owl, so as to not feel so isolated while at home in Cokeworth. Gin sympathized but remained, as usual, quiet.

It had been difficult, that morning, to shut it all out, but Gin did her best. The whispers from wary students, the uneasy glances from the professors at the staff table, the feeling that there was something very heavy and dark looming not only over the Great Hall but also over the wizarding world as a whole… She was sure she was not the only one who felt it. She did not enjoy the unsettled feeling in her chest, nor the constant reverberations of her mother's words from the week before in her head, telling her that boys like Sirius Black were dangerous, that she must tell him she could not sneak off with him again.

She spent breakfast, then, much as she had spent the train ride the day before, attempting to rid her mind of the jumble of emotions that now plagued her. She also attempted to keep her eyes from drifting down the Gryffindor table, and succeeded with the exception of one time, when she looked up to see Sirius Black hit a Hufflepuff second year with a piece of bacon. Her eyes lingered on the grin Sirius shot the girl, on the way the girls' friends erupted into a fit of blushing giggles a moment later.

And so, Gin committed her focus back on her cereal for the remainder of breakfast.

It was a relief, then, to settle into her desk for the first lesson of term, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Romielle sat at the front of the classroom, her eyes glued to a copy of the _Prophet_. When the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw second years had all assembled in their usual spots, she folded up her paper and smiled at them all, but her smile was more strained than normal, and it was difficult not to notice the dark circles that shadowed her eyes.

"Welcome back," she said, looking around at them all. "I hope everyone had a nice holiday. Today we will be quickly reviewing Shield Charms as used to protect _others_ , to ensure that you have not forgotten in the weeks since we last met, and then we will be moving on to discussing standard countercurses. If everyone could find a partner to –"

"Professor?" interrupted Phillip Maloney from the front row, his hand rising in the air as if an afterthought. "I've got a question."

Professor Romielle gave him a small, patient smile. "Yes, Mr. Maloney?"

"The _Prophet_ this morning…I mean to say, you work for the Ministry, so you might be able to tell us…but the paper mentioned that those people were murdered by unknown wizards. But only last week they were saying it was some Dark Lord wizard…"

"Yes," Romielle said, ignoring the muttering that filtered through the classroom. The smile was no longer on her face. "Lord Voldemort, is what they are calling him."

"Right," said Phillip, clearly aware that the eyes of the entire class were now on him. "So was it him? Or was it some unknown wizard? And why can't the _Prophet_ get its story straight?"

The classroom became eerily silent as everyone waited for the professor's response. She stared hard at Phillip before sweeping her gaze over the rest of her rapt pupils, clearly considering how best to respond.

"All evidence suggests that the murders were committed by followers of Lord Voldemort, if not by Voldemort himself," she said at length. "Though it has been difficult for the Ministry to confirm, as we have been unable, on the whole, to locate Voldemort's whereabouts."

"So this Voldemort fellow," said a Ravenclaw called Lionel Marigold loudly from next to Phillip, "he might not have even done anything wrong?"

"Other than telling his mates to murder five innocent people, you mean, Marigold?" snapped James Potter from the back row.

Lionel turned around to look at James, coloring a bit and straightening his back before saying, "That's not what she said. She said it could just be followers of his, which means it could just be some nutter who thinks he's acting on someone's orders…"

"It could be," said Professor Romielle, nodding thoughtfully. "But all indications point to the fact that the wizard called Lord Voldemort is espousing the notion to his followers that pureblooded wizards are inherently more magical than Muggle-born wizards, and that the Muggle world as a whole should fall under the rule of the magical world."

"Okay," replied Lionel, evidently attempting to have a philosophical discussion with the professor on the matter, "but there's nothing innately _wrong_ with that belief…"

"There's something innately _wrong_ with your head, Marigold," James said loudly, to general laughter. Several students turned sideways in their seats to get a better view of James, watching the proceedings with entertained apprehension.

"You can't police what people _think,_ Potter," said Lionel, fully turning around in his chair now to face James.

"I don't remember saying that you _could_ , Marigold. Maybe you need to get your ears checked along with your head…"

Lionel seemed to be swelling under the pressure of debating with the notorious James Potter, but he did not back down. "There's nothing wrong with thinking a certain way! Thinking things doesn't make you a murderer."

"Yes," said James, and Gin finally glanced around to see his casual posture betrayed only by the flash of anger in his eyes, "and there's nothing wrong with my _thinking_ that you're a beetle-brained pillock, either –"

Professor Romielle held up an assuaging palm. "Now let's not start name-calling…"

Unfortunately for her, where James Potter led, Sirius Black was soon to follow, and the latter now took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. "Yes, James," he said loudly, smirking at Lionel Marigold's beet-red face, "you've just insulted the entire beetle species, you know…"

A peal of laughter rang out from the class and Romielle attempted to talk over it. "No need for personal attacks, gentlemen…"

"Just proving old Lionel's point, Professor," said Sirius, blinking at her with charming innocence, "that you can't police people's opinions on things."

"That's correct," nodded Romielle, "but those opinions can still get you into a helping of trouble if they are acted on improperly."

"Right, Professor," agreed James, not taking his eyes off of Lionel Marigold's face. "So I can't, for instance, get detention for _thinking_ that Lionel here is a puffed-up tosser…"

"Mr. Potter!" scolded the professor amidst sniggers and gasps from the rest of the class.

"…but I _could_ get a detention," Sirius continued in James's stead, "for, say, sneaking into Ravenclaw Tower while Lionel's sleeping and transfiguring his hair into knarl quills?"

Lionel Marigold blanched, clearly realizing who, exactly, he had just made enemies of, and turned back around in his chair to face the blackboard. James glared at the back of his head, Sirius smirked, and, as amused whispers flittered across the classroom, Professor Romielle held up both of her hands to silence the students.

"You could and you would, Mr. Black," she said, sighing as she waited for silence to fall once again. "Now, if there are any additional questions about recent events, I'd like to welcome you all to speak with me privately in my office. It is perfectly normal for you to be curious about what is going on in our world. For now, however, I'd like for us to get back to the lesson. So if you could all divide up into your usual practice pairs, we will move forward."

The lesson proceeded fairly normally from there, though Professor Romielle promptly refused to allow James to partner with Lionel Marigold, who had turned a sickly green color when James elbowed his way through the crowd and insisted on "practicing" with him. Nevertheless, and despite being forced to pair with Sirius as normal, an uncommon number of both Sirius and James's spells went off-course in the time allotted for practice, including one that most unfortunately caused Lionel Marigold's earlobes to droop down past his collarbone.

"Sorry, Professor," James said innocently once Romielle had put the earlobes right again. "Just checking to see that Maloney's Shield Charms are up to snuff, you know."

It was more difficult than usual, then, for Gin to concentrate on her own spellwork and to keep her eyes from slipping over to where Sirius was working with aggravating ease. Toward the end of the lesson, when Professor Romielle had just finished explaining to them all the way that wand movement differed when casting a countercurse versus a counterjinx, Gin made the mistake of allowing her eyes to wander to the back row, and Sirius was looking right at her. She averted her gaze quickly and took a deep breath to calm the guilt-leaden wriggle in her stomach, her mother's instructions once again pumping through her brain. _Stay away from pureblood boys. Stop sneaking off with Sirius Black._

And thus, it was with great consternation that as she walked toward Transfiguration later that morning, Gin discovered the note that had been sneaked into her robe pocket without her knowledge. The feel of the crinkled slip of parchment against her fingertip was enough for her to know who it was from and what it was, but she peered around at the crowded corridor and pulled it out anyway. She stole one quick glance at it – _Tomorrow night, dungeon three. 8:00. –_ before she crumpled it into a tight ball and shoved it in her bag, her heart hammering, the noise of the corridor suddenly very loud in her ears. Conflicted, Gin decided to do what she did best, and put the entire thing out of her mind, focusing intently on her lessons and spending that evening finishing the novel she had received for Christmas.

The following morning, however, she could no longer ignore the dilemma that she faced: listen to her mother or meet Sirius Black that evening in dungeon three? It's not as if her mother would know if she ignored her advice, but Gin had never kept anything from her mother, and the idea of doing so was foreign and unsettling. She told her mother everything. She always had. But she had never before had a reason to keep anything from her.

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the morning post and Adin's return to announcing the horoscopes in _Your Daily Diviner_ to everyone within earshot. Gin tried to inconspicuously busy herself with her cereal and blend into the bench, but failed miserably and resigned herself when Adin turned toward her; it was, after all, an occupational hazard of ever sitting next to Adin Balini at breakfast.

"All right, Gin, your turn," said Adin, running a finger over her parchment in search of the right section. "Let me see…Virgo…here we are. 'A flash of inspiration will reveal itself to you today as you struggle –'"

But Adin was cut off by the sudden arrival of Emily Cagle, a blonde Ravenclaw in their year, who announced her presence behind them by saying, "Have you heard? Tell me you've heard!"

"Heard what?" Adin said, swiveling around on the bench to eagerly look at the newcomer. Across the table from them, Lily looked up from her toast with raised eyebrows. Gin went back to her cereal, grateful to have been granted a reprieve from the _Diviner's_ perspective on her day.

"About Lionel," Emily said, in an unnecessary stage whisper loud enough to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall at breakfast. "He woke up this morning and all his hair had been transfigured into knarl quills!"

"You're joking!"

"I'm not. He hasn't shown up here yet. I think he's still getting himself sorted by Madam Pomfrey."

"Serves him right," said Lily easily, a wry smile on her lips. "All that rubbish he was saying yesterday about people's right to think whatever they want…"

"Lionel's a prat," Emily said, with a wave of a hand. "He does that in all our lessons. He'd argue with a toothbrush about the food in his teeth and call it a philosophical discussion."

Adin strained her neck to look down toward the end of the Gryffindor table. "Do you think it was James and Sirius that did it, then?"

Emily nodded, her cheeks dotted with pink. "Cassandra Nguyen said that she saw Professor Romielle giving Sirius detention before breakfast, and he wasn't arguing or anything."

"Well he did tell the entire class what his plan was yesterday," Lily pointed out. "Not exactly stealthy."

"But how would he and James get into Ravenclaw Tower?" asked Emily, before adding with a giggle, "Not that I'm complaining."

"We stopped wondering how they do half the stuff they do ages ago," said Lily. "Pass the marmalade, Adin?" Adin didn't seem to hear her, so Gin reached to slide the marmalade across the table to Lily.

"They're just _brilliant_ , aren't they?" said Emily with a dreamy sigh, her eyes on the end of the table.

"Oh, perfectly clever," muttered Lily with an eye-roll of her own. "Announcing to a professor exactly how you plan to break the rules before you do it. Positively genius."

"They don't care if they get in trouble, Lily, you know that," Adin said. "They never have."

"Look, have you heard…you know…" started Emily, who appeared to have not been paying attention while gazing at the boys with admiration, "whether either of them has asked anyone to go with them on the next Hogsmeade trip?"

A dull thrumming seemed to take up residence in Gin's ears.

"James or Sirius?" Adin clarified before shaking her head. "Not that I've heard of."

"Well I think Elliott Stebbins might be asking me," said Emily, biting her bottom lip as if considering something, "but no way I'd go with him if there's a chance I could go with Sirius Black!"

Adin giggled and Gin, suddenly less interested in her cereal, excused herself to begin making her way toward the dungeons for Potions. It wasn't as if she had not been privy to the gossip about Sirius before, she thought as passed Nearly Headless Nick in the entrance hall. Indeed, Sirius Black and James Potter were consistently the top subjects of giggles and whispers among the third-year girls (though Evan Rosier and Darlene Burke had certainly become a hot topic in recent weeks), so why would Gin all of a sudden be affected by Emily and Adin's gossip? Why would the thought of Sirius asking Emily to Hogsmeade make the blood rush to Gin's ears and her heart jump to her throat? It's not as if she was jealous. It's not as if she fancied Sirius, really. She had been very clear with herself on that fact.

She had just finished reassuring herself of her stubborn indifference toward Sirius Black when she turned down the staircase toward the dungeons and walked past dungeon three, an unused classroom that she had never been in before. Her eyes were drawn to the open doorway, to the torches that flickered within it along the stone walls, to the dusty tables that lined the perimeter. Tonight. Dungeon three. 8:00. And then she knew, with the kind of dull realization that told her that perhaps she had known all along, that she could not meet Sirius in the dungeon that night. Because she wanted to. Because despite what she had been telling herself, she liked kissing him for reasons other than the thrill and the sense of belonging. She liked kissing Sirius because she _liked Sirius_. And that just would not do.

She would not, she could not, sneak off with him anymore.

It was easy, then, once the decision had been made, to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. She would not be going against her mother's wishes, and the sense of relief was profound. It had been unsettling to discover that she was no different than Adin or Emily or any of the other girls who swooned after boys, and Gin was adamant with herself that as long as she kept her head down and her focus on other things, she would be able to squash that bit of stomach-squirming in a day or two, max. Sirius was a clever bloke, and when she didn't show up that evening in the dungeon, he would take the hint, she was sure of it. Thus, she ate a quick dinner by herself that evening before hurrying off to her favorite table in the library, hidden in a secluded corner between shelves containing books on Ancient Magical Theory. Needless to say, she was rarely distracted while at this table.

Which was why she nearly fell out of her chair with surprise when none other than Sirius Black slid into the empty chair next to her at exactly 7:23PM that night.

"Do you know how long it took me to find you?" He glanced at his watch. "Almost an hour. An _hour_. Could you have possibly found a more hidden table in the entire castle to read at?"

"What – what are you doing here?"

"Who, me? Wanted to brush up on –" He tilted his head to read the nearest book title from the shelf next to him. "– _Means of Transmogrification in Mesopotamian Magic._ " He grinned at her. She said nothing. "I was looking for you," he said, faltering a bit.

"Oh."

"I can't, er…" He shifted in his chair, looked up at the shelves, the ceiling, anywhere but at her. "I can't meet you at eight."

"Oh," she said again. "All right."

"No, I mean," he said, glancing at her quickly and then looking away again, "I've detention at 7:30. I didn't want you thinking that I had just…decided not to show."

Guilt bubbled in her stomach. That was exactly what she had planned to do to him. "Okay." She paused, and then in an effort to steer the topic elsewhere, said, "Detention for the Lionel Marigold thing?"

"Ah," he said, looking at her once again with a mischievous grin, "you heard about the unfounded accusations that have been leveled against me?"

"Unfounded accusations?" she repeated with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Professor Romielle's under the impression that _I'm the one_ who snuck into Ravenclaw Tower last night and transfigured Marigold's hair, can you imagine?"

"I only wonder how she ever sussed it out, what with you threatening to do that very thing in class yesterday," Gin pointed out.

Sirius shook his head. "But see, I threatened to transfigure his hair into _knarl_ quills, and the unfortunate sod awoke this morning with a head full of simple _porcupine_ quills, so, really, there's no evidence against me at all."

Gin could not help but laugh. "And you were given detention despite the distinction?"

He sighed deeply. "I've said it before, but Hogwarts is not a just place."

"Well you'd better get going," she said, looking at her own watch. "It's 7:26."

He waved a dismissive hand, his elbows on the table as he leaned toward her, his eyes dancing. "Buckets of time. I'll have you know that I can get from the library to Romielle's office in exactly forty-three seconds."

Shifting under his heavy gaze, she turned back to her book and muttered, "Why doesn't it surprise me that you know – mmphh!" His lips pressed against hers, effectively silencing and surprising her at once. It took a moment to realize what was happening, but as soon as she did, she sprang away from him. "What are you doing?"

The look of happy innocence on his face was one she was all-too familiar with. "What? It's not like anyone's going to see."

"Look," she said, calming her trembling fingers, "I…I don't think we should do that anymore."

If he was upset, his face didn't betray it. "Do what? Snog?"

"Right. I don't want to snog you anymore."

"Well why not?"

Telling him the truth was not an option. In fact, Gin could only think of one thing less appealing than admitting to Sirius Black that she had realized she fancied him, and that was telling him that her mum had told her to stay away from him based solely on his family's reputation.

"I just…don't want to," she said, steeling herself and meeting his gaze.

"Oh."

"It's not that I don't…" She trailed off, swallowed, and then started again. "I mean, it just doesn't…feel right."

"I disagree," he said, giving her a little smirk.

There was an uncomfortable bit of silence before she said, "You should get to your detention. It's 7:28."

He shrugged, said, "Guess I can take the long route," and stood up. It looked like he was going to say something else to her, but he seemed to decide against it and turned out of sight along the nearest aisle of books. Gin sighed, disappointed and relieved and suddenly very conscious of the lead weight in her stomach. She had only just turned back to her book when Sirius appeared again in front of the table, looking anxious.

"What if," he started, shoving his hands in his pocket and seeming more hesitant than she had ever seen him, "I mean…what if…would you, you know, want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Gin would not have been more shocked if he had told her he was leaving Hogwarts to join the circus. "What? No!" she replied before she even considered it.

"Oh." He frowned, and then snorted. "Is it such a bad idea?"

She hadn't intended for any of this to happen. "Sorry," she said, now allowing guilt to grip her alongside awkwardness and confusion.

He shrugged. "I thought maybe it'd make it…feel more right."

"No. I'm just…not interested in…that."

"In Hogsmeade?"

"In going to Hogsmeade with anybody." _In being the subject of everyone's gossip. In being like one of those other girls._

"All right," he said, shrugging again. "Well…see you later."

"Yeah." She watched as he turned to leave for a second time and then, before she could stop herself, said, "Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"You could go with Emily Cagle to Hogsmeade."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Emily Cagle. You could ask her to go with you."

For a moment, his expression was frozen in something between surprise and confusion, but then a sudden bark of a laugh burst forth and Gin was the one to watch in shock. "You are so bloody weird," he said, chuckling at her with amazement.

And with that, he turned for the third time and disappeared into the stacks. Gin simply stared after him for a moment, half-expecting him to come back again. There was no doubt that he was right about her, she mused, because the only thing she felt after that entire conversation was a sense of glorious relief.

Bloody weird, indeed.

* * *

January's full moon fell on the Monday after the students returned to Hogwarts, so Remus spent much of Sunday in the boys' dormitory, trying to find some comfort for his weary and aching bones. His friends brought him some lunch from the kitchens, after which he felt strong enough to trek down to the fourth-floor secret passage with them, where they proceeded to spend the next hour connecting – or, in Sirius's case, trying to connect. Remus was quietly impressed with the newfound determination Sirius was exhibiting in his connection attempts; he had never witnessed Sirius concentrate so fully on any one thing for so long before, and by mid-afternoon, Sirius was claiming that he, too, was starting to feel something deep in his stomach. James insisted they celebrate by working more on their plan for the Slytherins, at which point Remus excused himself back to the dormitory to take a nap. He had realized in recent days that feigning deafness when it came to his friends' troublemaking was a fairly adequate way to prevent them from trying to involve him in their schemes. Despite this, he suffered pangs of regret every time he would witness the three of them with their heads bent together, clearly up to no-good. The same fear that had plagued him for over two years lingered, hissing in his ear that they would leave him behind if he did not partake.

But the sound of the approaching moon was louder than his constant angst about his friends, and for the days surrounding the full moon, he could not be bothered to worry about much else.

On Sunday night, Remus's churning stomach caused him to forego dinner, and he spent the evening in his bed, attempting to read ahead in his Transfiguration textbook, but having very little actual success. He had just decided to give up and turn in for the night when the dormitory door opened and Peter walked in.

"Hi Peter," Remus said, giving the other boy a weak smile. Even his face muscles ached.

Peter looked glumly around at him and gave what was perhaps an even weaker smile. "'Lo Remus."

"Where are James and Sirius?"

"James is talking Quidditch with Susanna O'Shea," Peter mumbled, looking miserable, "and Sirius is chatting with the Fat Lady."

"Chatting with the –?"

"For the plan."

"Ah," said Remus, fighting between the desire to ask more about their plan and the common sense that told him to stay out of it.

"She's pretty good-looking, isn't she?"

"The Fat Lady?"

"No, Susanna O'Shea."

"I'd never…" Remus fidgeted, looking closely at his friend. Peter was acting very oddly. "I'd never noticed before." Peter shrugged and moved to lean in against the post at the bottom of Remus's bed. "Is something wrong?"

"What?" Peter asked, glancing up distractedly from a piece of parchment that Remus just noticed was gripped between his fingers. "Oh…no. I mean, I just got an owl from my mum."

Remus nodded but didn't press him further. Since his tardy return to Hogwarts, Peter had been rather more dour and quieter than usual, perking up only when James and Sirius would include him in their scheming. Now, he crumpled the letter in his hand and shoved it into his pocket.

"She wants me to write to her every week, she said," he told Remus. "She's worried about me."

"Oh." Remus could not quite think of an adequate response to this, particularly because he did not understand why Peter was acting as though this were a source of great misery. "Well, that's a bit…much…I imagine."

Peter did not seem to even hear him. "And she sent me a list of girls' names they like and want my opinion. You know, for the _baby_."

"That's nice that they're including you," Remus offered.

"No it's not," grumbled Peter. "What do I care if they name the thing Beatrice or Betty or Penelope or Susan? I don't care at all!"

There was something in his voice, a strangled tenseness, as though he was trying not to wilt, and Remus sat up straighter in his bed, suddenly concerned for his friend.

"Peter?" he said, quiet and kind, "why don't you want your mum to have a baby?"

"Because why does she need to, anyway? They've already got me! Aren't I enough?"

Remus fought the instinct to cringe. The thought that he himself was not good enough for his parents had consumed him for years and years, crescendoing every month after the full moon, when his father would have to tend to his terrible wounds, playing nursemaid to his beast of a son, while his mother would be forced to watch helplessly from the sidelines, spoon-feeding him meals and washing him like an invalid.

"Of course you are," said Remus, choking back his own insecurities. "Your parents love you, Peter. Having another baby isn't going to change that."

Peter now climbed up to sit on the foot of the bed, and Remus shifted his feet to allow him more room. "But it's going to be born in June! _My_ birthday's in June!"

"Oh," said Remus, taken aback. "Well that shouldn't be too bad. You're here at Hogwarts for your birthday, anyway. And I'm sure your mum will still send you a package like she does every year."

"I guess…" said Peter, looking morose.

"We can make sure your birthday here is real nice, Peter."

"It's not just that. It's…I mean, our house isn't very big," he muttered, turning pink. "And my mum said they'll have to put the baby in my room when I'm away at school."

"That's…that's kind of awful," Remus conceded.

"They said they're going to try to put an extension on the house for the baby next year, but the magic's too tricky for them to do themselves, so they'll have to hire somebody and – well – it costs a lot."

Remus nodded, sympathetic and at a loss for what to say. He sighed, trying to put himself in Peter's shoes. How would he react if his parents were having a new baby, if his mother had suddenly become fiercely overprotective, if his birthday would be overshadowed, if his room at home was going to be transformed into a pseudo-nursery? He thought of his parents, of the sacrifices they had made for him, of the constant plague of doubt that he would ever be enough for them, that he would ever make them proud. He thought of his father that night before Christmas, in obvious anguish as he told Remus that he would not be able to ever be a normal boy, that he would not be able to ever be with a girl. He thought of watching his parents fawn over a new baby, a healthy baby, a fully human baby, of the way it would puncture a hole right through his stomach. But Peter was different. Peter was happy and whole and normal and worth being proud of.

"Peter," Remus said at length, "I think it's okay to be sad about it, but I think maybe you should be excited, too."

"That's what my dad said," Peter mumbled, rolling his eyes. "That this is _so exciting_."

"But you get to be a big brother," Remus went on. "Just think of that."

"Big deal."

"Being a big brother, though, that's kind of neat, isn't it? I mean, there's going to be a little kid about who looks up to you and asks for your help and who you can teach things to."

Peter looked up from his fingers now, seemingly pondering this perspective. "So?"

"So think about how much you'll be able to tell him about Hogwarts! Think about telling him where all the secret passageways are that we've found, and how to get to the kitchens, and how to sneak out to Hogsmeade."

"That's true…"

"And I don't have that, and James doesn't have that, and…well, Sirius's situation's a little different, isn't it? So all that we've found and discovered in the last few years, that'll all get passed down to your brother or sister. And you're going to be the _coolest_ brother in the world."

Peter bit his lip, hesitantly hopeful. "You really think he'll think I'm cool?"

Remus, though, did not have a chance to respond before the door to the dormitory banged open and Sirius strode in, followed by James.

"Admit it," Sirius was saying. "I am a bloody genius."

"I will admit no such thing," said James, crossing to his bed and tossing his bag on top of it.

"You will, though, because I got the information we needed out of her –"

"And that takes a genius, does it?"

"No but it takes someone who at least has an idea of how to talk to a _girl,_ mate…"

"I talk to plenty of girls! I was just down there talking to O'Shea before you interrupted us and dragged me up here."

Sirius ignored James and now hurried toward Remus and Peter, raising his arms in the air as if in triumph. "I am a _bloody genius_ ," he repeated to them.

"So we've heard," said Remus, amused.

"You got it then?" asked Peter.

"Of course I got it," scoffed Sirius, collapsing backward onto his bed and turning his head to grin at them. "Hence the _bloody genius_ thing. Oi!" he yelled, as James shucked off one of his shoes and hurled it at Sirius's stomach.

"Will you give it a rest and get to the point then, Genius?"

"Yeah," said Peter, "what did she say? The Fat Lady?"

Sirius rolled up onto his side and chucked the shoe back at James. "Well, firstly, her name isn't _actually_ 'The Fat Lady.' Color me shocked. Her name was Winifred…er…something-or-other. And she had a pretty saucy love life back in the day, let me say. Something about leaving the Earl of Something-Shire and running off with his brother, only to then fall for the Supreme Mugwump and to run off with _him_ , but that didn't last because his sister was this mad jealous sorceress who tracked them down and –"

"You sound like one of those gossip columns in a girls' magazine," interrupted James. "What'd she say about the passwords?"

"We were right," Sirius said. "The passwords are changed by the Head Boy and Girl and handed down to the prefects at their meetings. The magic's tricky, but if the Heads can do it, I'm sure we can work it out."

"All right," said James, sitting on top of his trunk and looking pensive. "Now we've got to find out when the next prefect meeting is –"

"It's tomorrow night," Sirius cut in casually.

"How do you know that?"

"I asked Newlyn Gallit."

"When?"

"Just now. While you were trying to get O'Shea to laugh at your joke about the centaur and the missing Bludgers."

"And Gallit wasn't suspicious?"

Sirius shrugged. "Probably."

"All right," said James, eyes alight. "Tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night," grinned Sirius.

"Tomorrow night," echoed Peter, whose smile was more genuine than Remus had witnessed in days.

They all turned toward Remus, who sunk lower against his pillows, his face reddening and his throat constricting tightly. "Well," he said, trying to calm his clinched muscles, "it's not as if we can all fit under the Invisibility Cloak anymore anyway."

James looked stricken. They had forgotten, even briefly, of what Remus would be facing the following evening. "Oh, Remus, mate, we can wait for another time…"

"It's all right…"

"No," said Sirius, sitting up fully. "We'll wait. I'm sure there'll be another prefect meeting in a few weeks –"

"Really, it's okay…"

"It's not like there's any reason we _have_ to do it soon," James continued, ignoring Remus's protestations. "It's not like anyone's expecting it."

"Guys!" They all started at the loudness of Remus's voice. "Listen to me. Sneak into the prefect meeting tomorrow and get the information you need so you can go ahead with the plan. I promise that I don't need to be there, okay?"

"Are you sure?" asked Sirius, looking hesitant.

There was something like giddy relief surging through Remus, mingling with a bit of ever-present longing. The full moon, for once, would prevent him for doing something that he _didn't_ want to do. Yet, as always, doubt plagued him. Did they care that he would not be there with them?

"Yes," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "It's going to be tight enough fitting the three of you under the cloak. It wouldn't even work if we all wanted to go."

"All right," conceded Sirius dubiously. He frowned at Remus. "You don't look so good, mate."

"Just t-tired," yawned Remus. Every particle of his body ached with fatigue. He sunk down farther so he was lying flat in his bed.

"You should skip lessons tomorrow," suggested James, concerned.

"I can't."

"Sure you can, if you're feeling that rubbishy."

"No, I can't. I'll already miss Tuesday's and Wednesday's lessons, I can't miss tomorrow's too."

"We'll take notes for you," offered Peter, finally climbing off of the end of the bed.

Remus smiled gratefully. "Thanks Peter, but I'll be all right tomorrow. Just need to sleep."

"Night, Remus," said James.

"G'night, mate," said Sirius.

Peter was moving to close Remus's hangings around his four-poster. "See you tomorrow," he told him in a soft voice. The grateful smile on his round face was the last thing Remus remembered seeing before his exhaustion swallowed him whole.

* * *

When Remus returned to classes on Thursday morning with sore muscles and dark circles under his eyes, he was relieved to discover that no one had seemed to even notice his absence that month. Indeed, no one could seem to talk of anything other than the events that had transpired that morning, when the entirety of Slytherin house had found itself trapped inside the Slytherin common room by a mysterious portrait of Godric Gryffindor, which had appeared at some point in the night, thoroughly blocking the exit and requiring every Slytherin that wanted through it to provide a specific password.

"I heard they all had to say 'Muggle-borns are smarter than me,'" Remus overheard Ev Linney telling a group of Hufflepuff girls in Herbology that morning.

"Oh? I heard it was 'Muggle-borns are _more magical_ than me,'" said Karina Cotswold.

"No, you've both got it right," said Nancy Robards. "Each Slytherin had to give a _different_ password before they were allowed out of the common room."

"No way," said Karina. "That magic wouldn't even exist."

"And Bertha swears she overheard Adrian Bole telling Slughorn that they all had to say 'Muggle-borns are smarter than me' to get out," Ev said knowingly.

Conversations such as these were easy to stumble upon over the next several days, though the rumors became more and more outlandish as time went on. The following week, Remus could not help but hear as Emily Cagle told Adin Balini that the Slytherins were all still being forced to bow down to the portrait of Gryffindor and praise him as a God. This, of course, was not true – Remus had it on good authority that the portrait had been removed the afternoon of the prank – but truth never seemed to factor much into the workings of the Hogwarts rumor mill.

The effect of the plan that James and Sirius had intended at the beginning of term seemed to work, though, and as February arrived, Hogwarts quickly started returning to normal. There was more laughter and fewer worried whispers in the corridors, the students gradually moved onto thinking about things other than Voldemort and the Fallen Five, and the Slytherins lost some of their swagger, having fallen back to earth with quite the thud. Halfway through February brought another Hogsmeade visit, and the four Gryffindor boys spent most of the day lounging in a corner booth of the Three Broomsticks, drinking far too much butterbeer and quipping incessantly about their fellow patrons.

On a Saturday afternoon in late February, Remus found himself once again spread out on the floor of the fourth-floor secret passageway, nestled against his preferred squishy cushions. He had spent an hour in Professor Romielle's office that morning discussing his most recent essay on alternatives to Shield Charms, and as she often did, she had lent him a book to read on non-combative uses of defensive magic. He should have been working diligently on a particularly nasty History of Magic essay ('Describe in detail the effects of the North American witch hunts on European magical law'), but the book was far too engaging for him to put down, and he found himself absorbed by the theories presented in its first few pages.

The boys had not been in there very long, but James and Peter were already floating eerily off the floor, and Sirius sat across from them, his legs crossed, eyes closed, and a frustrated crease across his brow. As Sirius's frustration with his lack of progress intensified, so did too his determination to prove that he could connect just as well as Peter or James. He had been going off on his own a lot more than usual, and had gone through sullen, quiet periods that were very un-Sirius-like. Remus was starting to worry for his friend.

They had only been in there about fifteen minutes and Remus had only just finished the third chapter when a frustrated noise that sounded somewhere between a growl and a groan startled him so much he nearly dropped the book and lost his page. He looked up in time to see Sirius spring to his feet, aggravation and impatience spitting off of him like sparks.

"I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't sodding well do it," he muttered, pulling at his hair in vexation. Remus sat his book aside and stood up too, though Sirius didn't even seem to notice, as he was pulling his fist back, ready to strike out against the wall.

"Sirius, no!" shouted Remus, hurrying forward to stop him, but he needn't have worried. Sirius seemed to come to his senses when his fist was halfway toward the wall, and he uncurled his fingers to strike the stone with an open palm, drooping against his own anger. He leaned his forehead against the stone as if to soothe it, and when he spoke, Remus assumed he was speaking to him, as both James and Peter were still floating obliviously across the passageway from them.

"I can feel it," he said, his voice low and wavering. "I almost get there, and I can feel it in my stomach, and James says you have to lean into the feeling, but I pull away every bloody time."

"You'll get it," Remus told him, unsure of what else to say. "You're close, you said it yourself. James and Peter took a while to connect after they got close too."

Sirius turned now and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his face white and pained. Remus moved to sit down next to him. "I've never been unable to do something before," Sirius said at length.

"Well that's not true."

"What do you mean, that's not true?"

"There's plenty of things you wouldn't be able to do if you tried." Sirius gave him an overly hurt look and Remus fought not to laugh at the expression. "I mean, if I asked you to produce Fiendfyre right now, you wouldn't be able to. Or if I told you to transfigure Peter into a garden gnome, you might get as far as vanishing his hair and lengthening his fingers, but you wouldn't be able to do much more than that."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?"

"No," said Remus, "it's supposed to make you see that there's plenty of magic that's too advanced for you _right this moment_ , but I've no doubt that if you _really_ wanted to turn Peter into a garden gnome, you'd be able to. It just might take more time than you prefer."

Sirius snorted and tapped the back of his head against the wall a few times in apparent frustration. "Right now I'd prefer turning _you_ into a garden gnome, if I have the choice," he muttered, but his tone was more amused than bitter. He paused before saying, "I'm going to do this, you know."

"I know."

"And once I connect, we'll finally be able to move onto the spells."

"I know."

"And I'll get the spells down before James or Peter, just you watch."

"I've no doubt," said Remus honestly. He turned his head to find that Sirius was peering at a faint scar that ran across his jaw – evidence of the previous month's full moon – but as soon as Sirius was caught looking, he turned away and fixed his gaze on Peter's floating form.

"I told you I would do this for you," Sirius all-but whispered. "And I will. I'm going to do this, Remus, and then we'll be able to stay with you on full moons and we'll be able to have adventures and we'll be able to keep you from hurting yourself so much."

"I know," said Remus again, his heart in his throat. There was a long, somewhat awkward silence, where they both just stared straight ahead at Peter and James, who seemed now to be taunting them. "Sirius? What if you tried connecting somewhere else, instead of in this passageway?"

Sirius turned back toward him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe it'd be easier for you to clear your mind if you weren't sitting right next to two people who are able to do this with ease."

"You think?" Sirius asked, pondering this.

Remus shrugged. "It can't hurt to try, can it?"

As though he had been shocked, Sirius sprang to his feet, grinning down at his friend. "Good idea," he said, reaching over to grab his bag off of a stack of pillows and swinging it onto his shoulder. "I'm off."

And with that, he disappeared down the passageway back toward the fourth-floor corridor, leaving Remus quite alone with his two unconscious friends, a defensive theory book, and a barely started History of Magic essay that suddenly felt very far away.

* * *

"Well, he's not upstairs," James announced, hopping the last several steps of the boys' staircase and rejoining Peter and Remus at their table in the common room later that afternoon.

"Where do you think he went?" asked Peter.

"Maybe he's off snogging Gin in a broom cupboard," James suggested, rolling his eyes at the thought. Remus though, shook his head and nodded toward the corner of the room, where Gin sat studying with Goomer and Raeanne. "Oh. Well maybe he's down in the kitchens with the elves. Wouldn't be the first time."

Peter bit at the corner of his thumbnail. "Reckon we should go and check?"

"Maybe we should just let him alone for a bit," said Remus. "He seemed like maybe he wanted to be alone."

"What did he say to you, again?" James asked, frowning.

Remus faltered, not particularly wanting to recap the short conversation he and Sirius had shared. "Er… Well, he was getting frustrated, you know how he gets. And he thought maybe trying somewhere else in the castle might help him clear his head."

"That's odd," said James, reaching into his bag and taking out a deck of cards, which he began shuffling as though without thinking. "We were talking about playing Arcana this afternoon."

"Give him time," Remus said. He pulled his History of Magic essay onto the table and unscrewed the cap to his ink. "He'll turn up soon, I'm sure."

But Sirius didn't appear in the common room for the rest of the afternoon. Remus used the time to finish his essay and start on the latest Astronomy assignment, which Peter copied unabashedly. At some point, James gave up waiting for Sirius to show and started up a game of Arcana with a group of fourth-year boys that included Davey Gudgeon and Andrew Adamsly, a Gryffindor Beater who turned out to either be extremely lucky or extremely good at Arcana.

"Bloody well took me for about ten Galleons," James muttered that evening, as he, Remus, and Peter went up to the dormitory to drop off their things before going to find some dinner.

"He got the Miss almost every round!" said Peter, who had watched a few rounds of the card game avidly.

James scoffed and tossed his bag onto the floor by his bed. "Lucky git. If he had half as much luck on the Quidditch pitch as he does playing cards, maybe he wouldn't have let those Bludgers stop me from scoring _three separate times_ in the last match." He paused and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Remus to unpack his bag. " _Come on_ , Remus! Those books don't have to be perfectly stacked before we eat, you know."

Sighing, Remus looked longingly at the unruly pile of books on his bed and conceded that perhaps they could wait until after he had eaten something.

"Hallelujah," James said, rolling his eyes. "And maybe Sirius will show up for dinner and tell us where he's been hiding all afternoon."

"No need," said Peter, pointing toward the dormitory window with wide eyes. It had begun opening of its own accord. "There he is now."

He was right. They all turned and watched as Sirius finished pushing the window open from the outside and climbed off of the hanging ladder onto the window sill. Snow flecked his hair, his robes were drenched, his lips blue with cold, but nevertheless he looked ecstatic as he pulled himself down from the sill and grinned at his three friends.

"I did it," he said, his voice raspy as if from lack of use. _"I fucking did it!"_

"You're joking!" said James, hurrying toward him and ignoring the small squeak Peter let slip at the language. "You did it?"

"Multiple times. Out on the ledge! Probably three or four times in all! I did it!"

James let out a strangled laugh of triumph and thrust his fist in the air victoriously.

Remus stared at Sirius, who seemed to be turning bluer by the second. "You've been out there in the snow all afternoon?" he asked incredulously. "Are you completely mental?"

"Probably," Sirius admitted, laughing and shaking the snow from his hair. "I used some Warming Charms at first, but it looks like they wore off here towards the end. I don't care about a little cold though… _I did it!_ "

"Which means," said Peter, bouncing a bit on his toes and clapping his hands together in excitement, "we can all connect now. And we can move onto the next steps!"

"The spells," nodded James as Sirius began whipping off his wet robes and changing into dry ones. Remus was still slightly concerned about the color of his lips, which looked vaguely frostbitten.

"Tomorrow," said Sirius. His eyes held the same bright excitement that was usually reserved for mischief. "We'll start tomorrow."

"Sound all right, Remus?" asked James in mock concern. "Or will you be organizing your book collection tomorrow?"

Remus could not help but laugh with them all, feeling for the first time in months, as though things at Hogwarts were as normal as they ever could be.

"Tomorrow it is."


	31. 3-10 or 'A Difficult Person to Deny'

_A/N: Thank you for your kind words! Now the first ever Lily-centric chapter, which is really kind of part one of two. Let me know what you think!_

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all HP characters are owned by Jo Rowling and not by me._

* * *

 **Chapter 31 - 3.10 or "A Difficult Person to Deny"**

* * *

It was a Tuesday morning, Lily's first lesson had not even begun, and things were already going poorly. Not only had she spilled syrup on herself at breakfast, but her attempt to Scourgify it off resulted in a hole the size of a plum right in the middle of her top. Forced to abandon her half-eaten waffles, she grabbed her things, tugged her robes across her chest, and made her way out of the hall, pausing only to throw the dirtiest look she could muster at James Potter when he wolf-whistled at her from the end of the Gryffindor table. Securing her robes as tightly as she could, she crossed her arms and hurried up to Gryffindor Tower to find an unsullied top. It followed, then, that by the time she reached the Ancient Runes classroom on the second floor, she was not only the last student to arrive, but she was also rather out of breath.

And there was somebody sitting in her seat.

"Rosier," she said, skidding to a halt in front of the table she normally shared with Severus and gaping at the Slytherin boy in confused surprise. "You're in my seat."

"My seat today, Evans," Rosier said with a casual shrug. Then with a smug glint in his eye, he nodded toward the empty chair he usually sat in, several desks away. "You can go sit with Burke."

Lily turned to Severus, who was giving her a look that clearly indicated he wanted her to just go along with the abrupt change. She frowned at him before glancing around the classroom. Several people were staring at her.

"You can't just –"

"Miss Evans," said a stern voice from the front of the room. She spun around to find Professor Kermann giving her a disinterested look over the rims of his round glasses. "Find a seat so that we can get started, if you will."

With one last confused glance at Severus, Lily navigated the rows of tables and chairs and slumped into the seat that Evan Rosier normally occupied next to Darlene Burke. She tried to give her new desk-mate a tentative smile, but Darlene remained staring forward at the professor, her arms crossed and her pursed lips betraying the otherwise impassivity of her expression.

"Fix your top, then, Evans?" came an amused whisper from behind her, and Lily did not have to turn around to recognize the voice of James Potter.

"Sod off, Potter," she said out of the side of her mouth as Professor Kermann began handing back their homework papers from the week before.

"Pity, that. It was a good look."

At this, Lily spun halfway around in her chair to glare at him. "And the only way you'd _ever_ get a look is if the girl has a hole in her top," she snapped, feeling the heat rise in her face. "Now _sod off,_ Potter!"

She thought she heard Darlene Burke muffle a snort, but when she looked back, neither the other girl's expression nor her position had changed in the slightest. James just grinned at her, completely and aggravatingly unfazed as usual, so Lily spun back around in time to take her paper from the professor. She had received high marks on it, which raised her otherwise dour spirits marginally.

"All right," began Kermann once he had finished his distribution. He was a middle-aged man with closely cropped grey hair and a polished, exacting demeanor. Lily had always thought there was something very un-wizardly about him, though she had never mentioned that impression to anyone, unsure if it could be taken as some sort of prejudice. "Now before we begin, I want to address your second-term projects, which were mentioned to you at the beginning of the year, but which you will now be responsible for completing. These assignments will make up a significant portion of your marks for the year, and will be turned into me the week after the Easter holiday, which is to say –" He consulted a piece of parchment that sat on his desk. "– Tuesday, the 16th of April."

There was a good deal of grumbling at the gall of the professor to remind them of their assignment. Kermann held up a pacifying hand, a twitch of a smile on his lips.

"Yes, I know, it's terrible that I should ask you to work, I understand," he said, nodding sympathetically. "But I think that you may find your assignment to not be so strenuous. I am asking you all to select a well-known children's story to translate into runic text for me. Two rolls of parchment, no less." He looked around at them all, undeterred by the general lack of excitement staring back at him. With one last sigh, he smiled. "All right. You got me. If it's that terrible, I'll allow you to work with your desk partner on your assignment."

At this, the students shifted and brightened, many turning to the person next to them and whispering something or other. Darlene Burke glanced at Lily out of the side of her eye. She appeared decidedly unimpressed, but said nothing.

"I'll give you all a few minutes at the end of the lesson to discuss the assignment with your partners," Kermann went on after a brief pause. "But for now, I'd like you to all open your textbooks to page two hundred, and we shall start the ways in which suffix translation can affect the root verbs…"

The lesson after that was fairly standard, and although Lily attempted to take her usual copious notes, her eyes kept drifting to the table at which she normally sat and the way Rosier would lean in to whisper something in Severus's ear. Of course, _of course_ , they would be assigned partners on the day when Lily had been forced to sit at a table with a stuck-up Slytherin girl instead of her best friend, who had suddenly, inexplicably, become chummy with Evan Rosier, of all people. Despite her best efforts to be happy for Severus, it didn't add up.

A few minutes before the end of class, Professor Kermann finished his lecture and the classroom was filled with the unencumbered chatter of twenty students who had just been granted permission to talk freely. Lily turned to the girl sitting next to her. She had never had much of a conversation with Darlene Burke before, and though the Slytherin seemed intent on maintaining that particular status quo, Lily needed to at least figure out how they would be approaching their term assignment.

"Er," she began, wishing desperately that she had been sitting with Severus or Adin or anyone else in class that day. "So I guess we need to get together at some point to choose which children's story we want to use."

Darlene made no indication that she had heard Lily at all. Indeed, she continued her pursed-lip glare toward the table in front of theirs, where two other Slytherin girls – Zelda Carmichael and Lelita Aubrey – sat, whispering and giggling with one another. As Lily watched, Aubrey hissed something in Carmichael's ear, and they both turned brazenly around to look at Darlene before erupting into a fit of tinkling laughter.

"Erm, Darlene?" Lily tried again, after a moment of awkward staring. Her experiences with these three Slytherin girls had informed her that they were close friends, though clearly Darlene was on the outs with the other two at the moment.

"What?" Darlene responded at last, not removing her gaze from the back of Zelda Carmichael's head.

"Oh," said Lily, caught off-guard by the response. "Should we…I dunno…get together at some point to choose a story?"

"If we must."

"Okay. Er, how about tonight?"

Darlene flicked a piece of invisible lint from the sleeve of her robe and then shook her head idly. "I can't tonight."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"No, I'm busy tomorrow as well."

"Don't you know, Evans?" came a sharp voice from in front of them. Zelda Carmichael had obviously overheard their conversation and had turned around in her seat to interject. "A slag's schedule is always full. I'm sure Darlene will be busy every night for the next month with one boy or another."

Lily felt her mouth fall open in shock as Darlene narrowed her eyes and said coolly, "You would know, Zelda, wouldn't you, the way you follow me round and watch my every move?"

"How is it to be the class joke, anyway, Darlene?" Zelda bit back.

"How is it to have no life of your own, Zelda?"

Zelda's response was a haughty smirk and another snide whisper in Lelita Aubrey's ear. Perhaps fortuitously, the tension was cut by the pealing of the bell, which signaled the end of the lesson. As the rest of their classmates got to their feet and moved toward the door, Darlene looked back at Lily with the casualness of someone who had certainly not been just called a slag by a former friend.

"How about Sunday, then, Evans? The library? After dinner?"

"Oh…sure," said Lily, relieved to not have to raise the subject again herself. "That works."

Darlene gave a half-hearted shrug and then moved to join the throng of third years at the door, unbothered to say anything else on the matter, apparently. Lily stared for a moment and then looked around for Severus, but he was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, she finished packing away her notes and hurried to catch up to Adin, wondering with a niggling worry in her stomach why Severus could not have even been hassled to wait for her after class.

* * *

Lily's day only marginally improved from there. In Transfiguration that morning, she managed to turn her tortoise's shell porcelain, but was unable to master the full spell to change the whole animal into a teapot. Afterward, during morning break, Adin could not seem to talk of anything else other than Lily's new Ancient Runes partner.

"I can't _believe_ you're going to have to work with Darlene Burke," she whispered as the two of them huddled in a dry corner of the courtyard. The wind whipped their robes around them and Lily shivered, suddenly regretful of their decision to spend their break outside instead of in the library.

"What's Rosier doing sitting in my seat, anyway?" Lily muttered, still annoyed by that morning's chain of events.

"Yeah, I mean – no offense – but who in their right mind would want to partner with _Snape_?"

"Adin!" Lily scolded.

Adin just raised her eyebrows in pacification. "I said no offense! He's so _weird_ , Lily, and he's not even _nice_. I don't get why you're friends with him."

"Because I am," Lily said stubbornly.

"Whatever," shrugged Adin, tossing her hair against the wind. "But anyway, apparently Rosier broke it off with Burke, so it's no wonder he didn't want to partner with her."

"I guessed as much."

"Word is," started Adin, leaning in as she always did when she had scandalous gossip to report, "she wanted him to take her to Slughorn's party on Saturday night, but Rosier got everything he wanted out of her last Hogsmeade visit, so he had no use for her anymore."

Lily stared, disgust pulling at her features. "So why's she arguing with her mates then?"

"She's arguing with her mates?" Adin asked, eyes suddenly alight with curiosity.

"Certainly seemed like it. Carmichael called her a slag right to her face, it was horrible."

Adin snorted in laughter and waited until a group of first years had wandered past them before answering. "I hadn't heard they were rowing, but if Carmichael thinks she's a slag, it must be true. They've been friends for years, even before Hogwarts."

Lily shrugged, the entire conversation starting to make her uncomfortable.

"I wish I had an invite to Slughorn's party," pouted Adin. "I think you and Rosier and Snape are the only third years who got one."

"Nancy Robards usually goes to his get-togethers," Lily told her, happy that the discussion had moved in a different direction. "I'd imagine she got an invite."

"Oh yeah, her dad's high up in Magical Law Enforcement."

"And she's really smart," added Lily as a dreary drizzle started falling from the grey sky. "Come on, let's go inside, it's rotten weather out here."

The girls moved back into the castle, Lily immensely thankful that the topic had veered from the dramatics of the Slytherins' interpersonal relationships, as it was always a difficult task to pull Adin out of her gossip once she got going. Nevertheless, Lily did a fairly adequate job, and spent the rest of the day tuning out any new talk of Darlene Burke or Evan Rosier or any of the third-year Slytherins. Despite the Ancient Runes assignment looming ahead of them, it was none of her business, really.

By the time Lily made it back to the common room that evening, she was in higher spirits than she had been all day. She and Mary had just been to a Charms Club meeting, where they had learned a nifty little charm that would allow them to scan through books or notes for a specific phrase, and Lily was itching to try it out for her latest Potions assignment. As she climbed through the portrait hole, however, she was thoroughly distracted by a large group of people milling around the Gryffindor notice board.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, pulling a chair up to the table that Adin and Kaia Balini were currently occupying.

"Hmm?" Adin asked, distractedly looking up from her copy of _Teen Witch._

Lily indicated the group of people amassed in the corner. "Another Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Oh, no, James Potter's starting an Arcana tournament."

This, of course, meant nothing to Lily. "Arcana?" she repeated, when Adin did not offer any additional information.

"The card game," Adin said with a wave of her hand. "The one that boys play to win gold off each other." She nodded toward a nearby table, where a quartet of fourth-year boys sat, staring intently at the hands of playing cards in front of them.

"It's not just for _boys_ ," said Kaia, looking up from the essay she had been working on to roll her eyes at her sister. "Girls can play too."

"Yeah, but girls never play Arcana."

"Do too. Fiona Beal's already signed up for Potter's tournament."

"Fiona Beal's Quidditch Captain, though. She's not like a _real_ girl."

Lily only half-listened as the sisters bickered, her attention on the nearby card game, a familiar loneliness taking up residence in her stomach. Another aspect of the wizarding world that remained a mystery to her, another wall between her and her classmates who had been raised in magical households. As she watched, Andrew Adamsly threw a triumphant pair of cards onto the table and then reached in to swipe the entire pile, earning various groans and disbelieving laughs from the other players. Apparently he had just won something.

"…doesn't make her not a _real girl_ , Adin. Merlin, you're so judgmental…"

"…don't get your knickers all in a twist, I didn't mean anything by it…"

"How do you play?" Lily asked abruptly, interrupting the Balinis' back-and-forth.

"Huh?" said Adin, turning back to Lily almost as if she had forgotten she were there. "Oh, Arcana? I don't know all the rules. There's tricks and hands and rounds and trumps. It's all very complicated."

"It's not _that_ complicated," countered Kaia.

"It's not as if _you_ know how to play," Adin shot back.

Kaia rolled her eyes once more. "Well, no, but they say once you get the hang of it, it's all pretty straightforward."

Despite this, despite the fact that she had absolutely no idea how to play the game, Lily had a sudden, desperate urge to learn. As Andrew Adamsly collected what appeared to be a decent bit of gold off of his friends, she asked, "How much do you win?"

"In the tournament?" Adin clarified, frowning slightly. "Dunno. I think the buy-in's two Galleons, and there's already twenty or so people signed up, so I'd reckon you'd get a fair bit if you actually won the thing, but…Lily…you're not thinking of entering are you?"

"What?" Lily said, finally turning her gaze back to her friend. She shook her head, snapping herself out of her own daze, falling back down to the reality that told her that she didn't know the first thing about the card game whose name she could now not even recall. "No…no, of course not. I don't even know how to play."

But when a new game started up later that evening, Lily once again could barely pull her eyes away.

* * *

For the days leading up to Professor Slughorn's party on Saturday night, the school was abuzz with talk of little else. The older students who had not warranted an invite all seemed to suddenly have much more interest in those Slug Club members who had yet to find dates. Word in the corridors was that Caliban Gumboil, lead singer of the popular wizard band Deathday Champagne, would be making an appearance. The rumor that he might have even agreed to perform a song or two inspired a frenzy among the students to garner an invite the likes of which Lily had never witnessed. Interest in Slug Club gatherings, in her experience, was generally fairly limited.

Having only heard a few Deathday Champagne songs emanating from Raeanne's wireless in the dormitory, Lily's excitement for the party did not quite hold the ardor of her classmates'. Indeed, as she awkwardly walked by herself into Slughorn's office on Saturday night, her temptation to go hide in the library for two hours was quelled only by the thought of what Adin would do if she found out that Lily had blown off such an opportunity. Swallowing her nervousness, Lily gazed around at the office in awe. While she had attended many of Slughorn's luncheons and afternoon teas, she had never been to one of his evening soirees before, and the transformation of his office for the event was sensational. There had clearly been some sort of Extension Charm placed on the space, as it was at least three times its normal size. Gone were the polished mahogany desk and cushy armchairs, replaced instead by several dozen small round tables and golden-spindled chairs, haloed in the light of floating, white orbs. The grey stone castle walls were completely obfuscated by alternating shimmery blue and ivory drapery, and in the corner, a massive crystal fountain in the shape of an augurey streamed jets of a light pink concoction that Lily could only assume was some sort of punch.

She had been worried that she was too early, but the room was already full of mingling guests, and with a breath of relief, Lily spotted Severus sitting on a chair against the wall, alone and clearly uncomfortable.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said, sliding into the chair next to him. "Not a bad set-up, eh?"

He glanced quickly at her, looked around at the lavish room, and then glanced back at her again. "Extension charm, I'd imagine. He must have got a permit from the Ministry for it. Can't have been difficult, there's already about three of the Minister's junior secretaries here."

He nodded to a group of stodgy looking young wizards chatting in the corner, all dressed in black and white pinstriped robes that seemed ridiculously uniform. Lily bit back a snort at the sight. "Well they look like a bucket of laughs. Too bad there's no dance floor for them to cut up later on."

Severus shrugged. "Political types. There'll be a fair few of them here, I'm sure."

"You talk to anyone yet?" asked Lily.

Severus, though, had become distracted as Didina Murphy, a fifth-year Gryffindor looking stunning in silver dress robes, walked by on the arm of a Ravenclaw boy Lily did not know. "Huh?" he asked, after a moment.

Lily laughed and flicked his ear. "I asked if you'd talked to anyone yet?"

"Oh," he said, turning red and looking down at his fingers. "No, I only got here a few minutes before you." He glanced back up at her awkwardly. "You…er…you look nice tonight. Different, I mean."

"Oh, thanks," said Lily sarcastically.

"No! I mean, er, you always look nice, but you look…er…did you do something differently tonight?"

Adin had for days been begging Lily to wear dress robes to the event, but as Lily had no dress robes, nor any gold to buy dress robes, and as all of her friends were significantly taller than her, Lily had settled for her standard school robes. She had, however, allowed Adin to curl her hair properly for the occasion.

"Not really, just, you know…" She waved her hand absentmindedly toward her hair. Severus nodded and went back to studying his fingers. "No dress robes," she continued, shrugging. "And I imagine if I did magically come into some gold, I wouldn't spend it on dress robes."

"No," said Severus, a wry smile playing at his lips. "I imagine I wouldn't either."

Lily laughed. "What would you spend it on, then?"

"Books," he said at once. "Maybe a new cauldron."

"There's a shocker," Lily said, nudging him in the side.

"Well what about you, then?"

"An owl," she said without pause.

"That'd be nice," he nodded thoughtfully. "Then we could use it over the holidays to decide when to meet up. I'm sick of walking all the way to your house only to discover you're not home."

"And I could use it to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world when I'm at home," said Lily, her thoughts turning to that familiar sense of seclusion she felt in Cokeworth. "So we're not so isolated, you and me."

Severus's expression turned sour, but a swell of noise by the door drew Lily's attention away from him. A tall, dark-haired wizard wearing robes made entirely of artfully ripped black leather had just entered, and Lily assumed based on the crowd's reaction that this had to be the much anticipated Caliban Gumboil. A small group of Ravenclaw sixth years immediately swarmed him, holding out quills for him to sign various slips of parchment, and Lily watched in awe as one girl even had him autograph her forearm.

"Stupid girls," Severus muttered, his lip curling at the sight of them. "As if being able to strum a few notes on a guitar is an actual accomplishment."

"Have you heard their songs? Raeanne says they're quite good, and she listens to all sorts of music."

"Oh, well, if _Raeanne_ says they're good…"

"Don't be rude, Sev, I was just saying…"

Severus scowled and went back to studying his fingers, so Lily took the time to gaze around at their fellow party-goers, curious as to how many of them she knew. Nancy Robards, looking very pretty in robes of deep blue, stood in the opposite corner chatting with two older Hufflepuffs who Lily didn't know. Andrew Adamsly was sampling some of the punch alongside an older, white-haired witch who had to be one of Slughorn's former students. Evan Rosier was huddled nearby with Rabastan Lestrange and Regulus Black, and Lily watched them for a moment until Rosier looked up at her, and she had to avert her eyes quickly and hope he hadn't noticed her staring.

"We could sell potions," Severus said abruptly.

"What?"

"You and me," he continued, still gazing at his fingers, but now with a thoughtful expression on his face. "To earn some extra gold. We could brew potions and sell them to students."

"That's…that's against the rules, Sev," Lily said, surprised.

"So? That Babbling Beverage you made was against the rules. Didn't seem to stop you."

"But that was just for me and my mates…"

"Still, though. I'd bet we could make loads of gold. Concentration Concoctions before exams. Dozeless Draughts to help people stay awake. Hydration Tonics for when the dunderheads drink too much firewhisky and can barely get off the common room couch the next morning…"

Lily considered it. There was something unsettling about the way he was speaking, as if he had been sitting on the idea for a while, as if Dozeless Draughts and Concentration Concoctions were not all he had in mind.

"Why do you think anyone would buy any potions off of _us_? I mean, we're good, Sev, but we're only third years. You really think the upper years would trust our brewing abilities?"

He shrugged, his eyes now focused more on his knees than his fingers. "So we start with the lower years." He hesitated before continuing. "Evan offered to pay me for the potion I'm brewing for him, but I told him I'd do it as a favor."

"Oh. Right. The mystery potion."

"I can't tell you what it is, Lily."

"But it's been _months_ now, Sev. It must be something very complicated. Maybe I could help."

"You can't help, and I can't tell you. So just drop it."

"Yes, Evans," said a voice from above them, and they both started and looked up to find Evan Rosier, dressed in very expensive looking robes of black silk, standing above them with a curious expression on his face. "You really should just drop it, you know."

Lily felt herself redden, but straightened her back anyway and said, "Eavesdropping, are we Rosier?"

Rosier rolled his eyes, looking entirely unapologetic, before ignoring Lily and saying directly to Severus, "Sorry to pull you away from your date, Snape, but I need a word."

"I'm not his _date_ ," Lily retorted at once. "And we were in the middle of a conversation."

"Yes, a conversation about what is and isn't your business, if I heard correctly Evans."

"It's fine, Lily," Severus said in a low voice before Lily could respond. He stood and had already slouched several paces away when he turned back to her. "I'll just be a minute."

Left with no alternative, Lily crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, trying not to be too obvious as she watched the two boys cross to the opposite corner of the room and speak in hushed, hurried tones. She didn't know what Evan Rosier was up to with Severus, but something in her gut told her that it couldn't be anything good. As much as she wished Severus would find friends outside of her and the Slytherin boys who bullied her, Evan Rosier had an air about him that simply gave Lily the creeps.

"Miss Evans!" boomed a voice from near the augurey fountain. Lily turned to find Professor Slughorn, who was standing with Andrew Adamsly and the white-haired witch she had noticed before, beckoning her across the room.

With a quick glance at Severus, who was not paying her any attention at all, Lily rose and approached the group. "Good evening, Professor."

Slughorn beamed at her. For the occasion, he had donned a velvet green waistcoat with gold embroidery and jeweled buttons. Suddenly, Lily felt entirely out of place in her everyday school robes. "Ah, Miss Evans! What are you doing sitting over there all by yourself?" This was apparently a rhetorical question, as Slughorn did not give her time to answer, before waving a glittering chalice of punch toward the unknown witch in some sort of introductory gesture. "I wanted to introduce you to Fernandina Cosgrove, who is the Healing and Medical Arts Potions Master at St. Mungo's!"

He finished with a final wrist flourish that caused a bit of his punch to slop out over his chalice and splatter onto the floor, but either Slughorn didn't notice or pretended not to. Andrew Adamsly closed his lips together tightly in an apparent attempt not to laugh, and Lily just smiled up at Fernandina Cosgrove, who appeared much younger than her shock-white hair had indicated at first glance. "How do you do?"

"Lovely," the witch replied in a deep, rich voice. She smiled warmly at Lily. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Evans."

"Lily here is the top potion-maker in her year, and one of the brightest I've seen come through in ages."

"Oh, you're kind, Professor, but I'm not sure about that," Lily said modestly, her face burning.

"Nonsense! Only a third year and already able to brew a perfect antidote to a Befuddlement Draught. I've never seen anything like it."

"Impressive," nodded Fernandina, her thin eyebrows raised in regard.

"Indeed," agreed Slughorn. "And Gryffindors are usually far too impatient to be great potion-makers! I always said she should have been a Slytherin."

"I _am_ impatient, though, Professor," said Lily, eyes wide in mock-seriousness. "The Sorting Hat went through the houses in alphabetical order, you see, and Gryffindor was first, so I just told it, 'I'll take that one!'"

Both Andrew and Fernandina laughed appreciatively, and even Slughorn chuckled. "You've got cheek, Miss Evans, that's for certain." He looked like he was going to say something more, but became distracted by the sight of a nearby Ravenclaw. "Oh, Mr. Greengrass!" he called, guiding Fernandina away by the elbow. "Come, Dina, let me introduce you to our esteemed Head Boy…"

And with that, they disappeared in the crowd to assail Miles Greengrass, leaving Lily rather suddenly alone next to the punch fountain with Andrew Adamsly.

"Well," she began, plucking a cup of punch off the nearby table just for something to occupy her hands, "that was…" She trailed off, noticing that Andrew was looking at her with a peculiar smile on his face. "What?"

"Do you always talk to professors that way?" he asked, his smile broadening.

"Oh," Lily took a sip of the punch and then had to force herself not to gag. It was sickeningly sweet. "Well, only when they ask for it by saying I should be a Slytherin."

"Brilliant," said Andrew, laughing a bit and shaking his head as if in disbelief.

"How'd you get roped into that conversation, anyway?"

He shrugged, glancing toward where Slughorn and Fernandina had wandered off. "Fernandina's my aunt," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's probably the only reason I ever get invited to this sort of thing. I'm no great Merlin at Potions, I'll promise you that."

"Your aunt?"

"Yep, my mum's older sister."

"Oh," said Lily, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, the first time she had ever spoken to Andrew Adamsly. "She seemed…nice."

"She's cool. Always sends me a Galleon for my birthday." He paused and rocked back on his heels before saying, "Are you here with someone?"

"What?" asked Lily, caught off-guard. "No, why?"

"You keep looking round as if expecting someone to come whisk you away at any minute."

Indeed, Lily realized she had been unconsciously trying to spot Severus through the crowd, but he was still nowhere to be seen. She blushed and turned her attention back to Andrew. "Sorry. I'm not here with anyone, was just wondering where a friend got off to. What about you?"

He shrugged again and gave her a smile. He had a very nice smile. "My date fell through at the last minute. Long story."

Again, Lily did not know the best way to respond to this. She was suddenly very aware of how awkwardly she was holding her arms, so she took another sip of her punch just for something to occupy her hands, forgetting that she did not care for it at all. This time, she couldn't help but grimace at the overwhelmingly saccharine flavor.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Andrew asked, noticing her expression.

Lily tried to arrange her face in a more pleasant countenance as she set the cup down on a nearby table. "It's like someone liquified Sugar Quills and then added some syrup."

He grinned at her, and she felt herself inexplicably redden. "I reckon it'd taste better if someone snuck some firewhisky into it, but it doesn't seem like that type of crowd, does it? Too bad James Potter doesn't come to these things, I'd imagine he'd find a way to liven it up."

She snorted in a very undignified way, but the mention of James Potter had reminded her of something. "Are you playing in Potter's card tournament, Andrew?"

"The Arcana tournament over Easter holiday? Yeah, I've put my name in."

"Is it difficult to learn, Arcana?"

He seemed to ponder this, biting his bottom lip and squinting down at her before saying, "You're a Muggle-born, right?"

This was not at all what Lily had expected. She took a small step backward and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes."

"No need to get defensive, Lily," he laughed, showing his palms. "I'm half-blood, myself. Dad's a Muggle. And the thing is – and don't tell the purebloods this secret – Arcana isn't so hard for those of us who have learned Muggle maths."

"Really?" she asked, fascinated not only by this information, but also by the way this good-looking, fourth-year Quidditch player had just called her by name.

"Sure." He shrugged again. "Part of it's luck, but the rest is just maths. And I was pretty good at maths in Muggle primary. I can teach you how to play, if you'd like."

"Really?" she asked again, trying to conceal her utter breathlessness. "You'd do that for me?"

"If you'd like," he repeated.

She grinned, regaining some of her wits. "But what if I turn out to be a much better player than you, and win all your gold in the tournament?"

It was a wonderful feeling, really, to make him laugh.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "If you win Potter's Arcana tournament, you can pay me back my two Galleon buy-in. Sound good?"

"Deal," said Lily, and she reached and shook his hand right as Severus appeared as though from thin air.

"Lily." His eyes flickered over her, over Andrew, over their handshake. "There you are."

"Here I am," she said happily. "Are you done with your top-secret conversation then?"

Severus ignored the question, his expression closed. "They've started passing food," he said in a voice low enough that he might have been trying to keep Andrew out of the conversation entirely. "They've those pasties you like over on the other side of the room."

"All right," said Lily. The thought of eating something that would rid her mouth of the syrupy taste of punch was mighty appealing. She turned back to Andrew. "I'll talk to you later, then, Andrew?"

"Sure," he said, giving her another brilliant smile. "See you later, Lily."

With that, she allowed Severus to pull her off toward the congregation of house elves that had appeared with silver serving trays stacked high with delectable food. And though she was not able to speak to Andrew again that evening – every time they would meander close to him, Severus would somehow steer them to the opposite side of the crowd – she could not help but let her eyes wander toward him more than once.

* * *

Lily spent much of Sunday hiding in her dormitory, simultaneously terrified of and thrilled by the prospect of running into Andrew Adamsly if she lingered too long in the common room. Their brief interchange the night before had made it difficult to concentrate on her homework, and by the time she entered the library after dinner that night, she had not finished very much of her work at all, though she was not entirely concerned about her lack of progress. The Transfiguration essay was not due for several days, and her Potions paper would be a breeze. Her focus, now, would be on getting through this first meeting with Darlene Burke.

"Evans," said Darlene by way of greeting ten minutes later. The Slytherin threw her bag onto the table Lily had been quietly seated at and slid into the chair across from her. "It took me five minutes to find you all the way over here."

Lily gave her a tentative smile that was not returned and shrugged genially. "Habit, I guess. I like the tables a bit out of the main stacks. It's quieter."

"Whatever," Darlene muttered, pulling a few books out of her bag. "Let's just get this over with."

"I was looking into some children's tales to choose from," began Lily, but Darlene cut her off.

"We should stay away from the Beedle stories," she said matter-of-factly. "Everyone's going to be using them, and they're rubbish, aren't they? I pulled some options for us. We should go lesser known."

Lily stared as Darlene flipped her books open to previously earmarked pages. Whatever she had expected from the other girl, this level of preparedness had not been it. "All right."

"I was thinking a good option might be the one about the little witch in the red robes that gets eaten by the werewolf on her way to her granny's house. It's pretty short and shouldn't be hard to translate." She flipped one of her books around for Lily to look at and pointed out the page titled 'Little Red Riding Hood.' "Or," she went on, throwing a different book on top of it in a similar fashion, "we could stick to those Grimm wizards' tales, like the one where those two awful Muggle children try to eat the witch's house made of sweets, and then when she catches them at it they end up boiling her in her own cauldron."

Lily frowned at the drawing under the heading, 'Hansel and Gretel,' at once both fascinated and horrified by the depiction of the titular pair as horrible little imp children with wide eyes and drooling mouths. It seemed that wizarding versions of classic children's tales were far different from the ones her father had read to her as a child.

"Er," she said, moving the top book to look again at the one underneath it. "Let's go with 'Little Red Riding Hood.' You're right in that it at least seems fairly short."

Darlene snapped the other books shut and threw them back in her bag. "Fine by me. Do you want to take the first paragraph and I'll take the second, then?"

"Okay," said Lily, peering around at the shelves. "Do you think there's another copy of it available?"

Darlene pointed to a section on the other side of the library. "I got this by the Magical Myths section over there. There were other copies if you want to check one out for yourself."

Thus, Lily spent the next ten minutes craning her neck at tome after tome containing myths and legends, finally spotting the book that Darlene had and plucking it off the shelf in relief. The idea that the stories of her childhood had been told from such differing perspectives for generations and generations was unsettling. She was curious to read the story in full, to see what Darlene Burke and countless other magical children had been read as they drifted off to sleep many years ago. As the story was short, only five pages with small illustrations, it took Lily several moments to locate it in the book. She leaned against the shelf and began reading.

"Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a young witch, the prettiest witch in all the area. Her magic was evident at an early age, and though her mother was excessively fond of her, her grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had conjured riding robes of red, with a little hood just for her. The robes suited the girl so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Riding Hood…"

"It's taking too long, Snape!"

A cold voice, emanating not too far from where Lily stood, interrupted her reading and she jumped as if scalded.

"I told you," hissed a second voice that Lily knew all too well, "it should be complete in a few weeks. Now that you've finally procured the Vipertooth blood, we can proceed at a faster pace."

"That Vipertooth blood is a Class B non-tradable material, you're lucky I was able to get it at all. You said that the salamander blood would work…"

Cautioning to move as little as possible as to not draw attention to herself, Lily peered through a gap in the books toward the sound of the voices. Craning her neck just marginally, she could spot the haughty, blond profile of Evan Rosier, staring in the opposite direction at what Lily knew to be Severus Snape, though she could not see her friend from that particular angle.

"I'm not sure 'lucky' is the word I'd use for it, Evan," said Severus in a tone Lily had never heard him use before, low and measured and oddly intimidating. "Perhaps it will be lucky for Burke, if anyone, as the salamander blood when mixed with the monkshood and Ashwinder eggs could have caused bleeding from the ears, and the Vipertooth blood won't have such an effect."

"I don't bloody want her bleeding out of her ears," snapped Rosier. "What fun is that?"

"And thus the need for the Vipertooth blood."

From Lily's limited vantage point, she could see the look of impatience on Rosier's face. "How long will it take?"

"I added the Vipertooth blood last night after Slughorn's party. It's brewing undetected in the alcove next to my bed. If everything goes as planned, it will be ready to administer in two weeks."

Rosier sighed, but nodded. "It's handy having you around sometimes, Snape, you know that?"

Though she could not see him, Lily could hear the little twinge of pride in his voice when Severus responded, "Though it hasn't moved as quickly as you would have preferred, the outcome will be what you're looking for, I guarantee it."

"It better be," said Rosier, and though he said it affably, it was impossible not to detect the threat underneath.

This seemed to be the end of their conversation, as Rosier moved out of Lily's line of sight, and she was unable to hear anything else from her side of the shelf. She crouched down, clutching the book to her chest and hoping that they were not coming her way, her mind racing and her mouth dry. The potion that Severus was working on, the one he refused to tell her anything about, was something that Rosier wanted to give to Darlene Burke. But they had been working on it for months, since Burke and Rosier were thoroughly disgusting everyone by wrestling underneath the mistletoe at every opportunity. Now, though, they were no longer even talking, and Rosier _still_ wanted the potion, _still_ wanted to give it to his former girlfriend. And it contained Vipertooth blood, which was something far too dark and volatile for Slughorn to ever permit them to use in his lessons.

Lily lost track of how long she remained crouched like that in the stacks, trying to sort out what exactly Severus had gotten himself into. At length, she realized that she was supposed to be working on her Ancient Runes assignment with Darlene, and pulled herself back up to her feet. When she stumbled into her chair at their table, Darlene looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What took you so long? I'm almost finished with my paragraph already."

"Oh," said Lily, shaking herself out of her stupor. "Sorry, I had trouble finding the book."

But before Darlene could reply, a snide, high-pitched voice cut across them. "Slumming it with Gryffindors now, Tart-lene?"

They both looked up to find Zelda Carmichael and Lelita Aubrey approaching their table, identical wicked smiles on their faces. Darlene rolled her eyes at her fellow Slytherins and gestured toward the books and parchment laid out in front of her.

"We're working on our Ancient Runes project, Zelda, which you could probably have figured out for yourself if you had a brain in your head."

The insult didn't even seem to register, as Carmichael only tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and widened her grin. "Oh that's right!" she simpered in a voice dripping with condescension. "You got stuck with Evans because no one in your own house wanted to be anywhere near you anymore, isn't that right, Tart-lene?"

"I'm working with Evans because that's who I was assigned to work with," Darlene replied, unruffled and cool.

Carmichael evidently decided to change tactics and turned to Lily. "How does it feel to have to work with Tart-lene, Evans? Do you worry some of her slagginess might rub off on you?"

Something told Lily that it would be prudent to not antagonize these girls, but prudence rarely won out when insults were being fired. She said loudly to Lelita Aubrey, "How does it feel to have to work with Carmichael, Aubrey? Do you worry some of her thickness will rub off on you?"

There was a sound almost like a choked laugh from across the table, but when Lily glanced at Darlene, her expression was as cool and aloof as ever. Both Aubrey and Carmichael looked entirely affronted.

"Don't you dare call me thick, you bitchy little…"

"What?" asked Lily, leaning backwards in her chair and crossing her arms. "Can't come up with a clever nickname for me, Carmichael? Too bad. You know, if I had the sense of humor of an eight-year-old, I might think it's funny to come up with one for you. 'Cow-michael,' perhaps?"

"You think you're so clever, don't you, Evans?"

Lily, though, had noticed a figure stalking around a nearby bookshelf, so she smiled brightly and waved. "Hello, Madam Pince!"

Both Aubrey and Carmichael spun around so quickly they nearly toppled over as the vulture-like librarian marched to their table and glared around at them all. "What are you girls doing, skulking around like this?" she hissed at the two standing Slytherins. "Either sit down and get to work or get out."

With a huff and a simultaneous roll of their eyes, Carmichael and Aubrey hurried off through the stacks. Madam Pince sent another suspicious glare toward Darlene and Lily, but seemed to find nothing to scold them for, and she, too, disappeared between nearby bookshelves, leaving the two girls in an awkward silence.

 _"Cow-michael?"_ said Darlene after a moment. She was looking at Lily with a strange, closed expression and an arched eyebrow.

Lily could not suppress a sheepish grin. "The entire time she was over here, all I could think was that she's a cow. It just kind of slipped out."

And, for perhaps the first time since Lily had known her, or perhaps for the first time in her life, the corners of Darlene Burke's lips twitched upward in what was unmistakably a small smile. It was gone a second later, though, and as if looking for something to distract Lily from the entire encounter, Darlene said, "That's a nice quill."

"What?" said Lily, looking down at the deep blue and gold-flecked feather that was lying on the table in front of her. She plucked it up and examined it. "Oh, thanks."

"It's smaller than most quills, but it's really pretty."

"It's homemade. It was a Christmas gift from a friend."

Darlene stared at the quill for a brief moment before saying, "Must be a good friend. Now let's get back to work so we can get out of here."

Lily recognized the dismissal and did not push for additional conversation, but flipped open her book to begin working. The pair worked in silence for nearly an hour, and though they made good progress, by the time the torches dimmed to signal that curfew was nearing, they had only gotten through about half of their story. After making plans to meet up again later in the week, Lily crept over to the well-tread aisles of the Potions section, grabbed a few books she would need, and then made her way back up to Gryffindor Tower, her mind full of Darlene and Severus and Rosier and the thought of how cruel friends could be to one another.

She had only just sat down at an empty corner table in the common room and began researching when someone slid uninvited into the chair across from her.

"Evening, Lily."

Her stomach seemed to recognize him before her brain did, and it somersaulted two or three times before she was able to find her tongue. "Hi Andrew."

He did not look quite as polished as he had the night before, but the fact that his robes were a bit rumpled and his brown hair was not neatly combed somehow worked to make him even better looking to her. He was shuffling a deck of cards through his fingers and grinning at her with the same bright smile he had thrown her the previous evening, the same bright smile that made her face glow warm.

"Fancy learning a bit of Arcana? Or are you too busy with, er…" He craned his neck to get a better look at the book she was reading. "… _Plucky Picks for the Most Potable Potions?_ "

"Oh!" she said, probably too loudly. She threw the book and the three that were stacked below it into her bag and gave him a timid smile. "If you're willing to teach me, I'm willing to learn."

"Brilliant. I was looking for you this afternoon, but couldn't find you. Then I saw you at dinner, but you were gone so quickly, I didn't get a chance to have a word."

 _He was looking for her?_ She clasped her fingers together under the table, unsure of what else to do with them. "I had to meet someone in the library after dinner, so I was in a bit of a hurry," she explained. "Ancient Runes project."

He raised his eyebrows and began dealing the cards one by one. "The children's tale one? I remember that from last year, it wasn't too bad. Just don't go with one of the Beedle stories. They're all so long and everyone chooses them so it's harder to get away with mis-translations."

Lily nodded and kept her eyes focused on the cards as he finished tossing them into two piles. "We decided on 'Little Red Riding Hood.'"

"Ah, a little different, I bet for you, the Muggle version versus the magical version?"

"Did you…" She hesitated, not knowing if this was too personal a question to ask someone she barely knew. "Did you grow up with the Muggle or magical versions, being a half-blood?"

"Both," he answered. "But I preferred the Muggle versions, usually. Less…gruesome, somehow, which is saying something." He flipped the newly dealt cards over and laid them out so that they both could see the hands. "Anyway, Arcana…"

"Right," said Lily, scooting her chair in and leaning forward as to get a better view of the cards. "Less chit-chat, more of you showing me how to win dozens of Galleons in a few weeks."

He chuckled lightly. "Do you know anything about the game, or are we starting from the top?"

"Er, I know it's called 'Arcana.' And it's played with cards. And you told me it has to do with maths. That's about the extent of my knowledge."

"All right, then, from the top it is," he said easily. "The goal of Arcana is to get to seven points before any of the other players, and you generally get a point for winning a round. To win a round, you've got to win four of the seven tricks, which is why you've seven cards to start." He gestured to the hands on the table. "If you win six or seven of the tricks, you get two points, but that almost never happens. You with me so far?"

He said all of this fairly quickly, and though it did not seem too overly complicated, the nearness of him was distracting her somewhat. Add that to the fact that Sirius Black and James Potter had just passed by their table and the latter had given her a very confused look, and Lily was starting to think that she was going to come off as rather thick to this boy.

"Er," she said, shaking herself slightly and refocusing her attention. "Seven tricks, have to try to win four in order to get a point. Get seven points to win the game. Okay, I got it. How do you win a trick?"

"Well that's where the maths comes in, and it's the beauty of Arcana. Here, let me show you…"

* * *

Lily was the very last person awake in the common room that evening. She and Andrew had sat in the corner for hours discussing Arcana tactics and playing test hands with one another. It was close to 11:00 when he decided to turn in for the night and Lily, too wired by their time together to consider going to sleep, remained in her seat until well after midnight, poring over the Potions books she had taken from the library and at last coming to the disturbing realization of what, exactly, Severus was helping Evan Rosier brew in their dormitory.

She did not sleep much that night, plagued with worry over what was becoming of her best friend. Sure, Severus had always been quiet and somewhat sullen, but with the exception of a few encounters with James Potter, he had never been malicious. (And to be fair, the James Potter animosity was always provoked.) But if Lily was correct in her theory, what Severus and Rosier were planning to do to Darlene Burke was unconscionable, and the use of the Vipertooth blood made it fairly clearly Dark Magic.

She was not one to sit back while her best friend made bad decisions that would not only hurt other people, but were likely to get him expelled as well. So, after breakfast the next morning, and despite the near certainty that she would be late for Charms, Lily caught up to Severus near the History of Magic classroom, where he was walking a pace or two behind Avery and Mulciber.

"Sev," she hissed, pulling at his elbow to slow him down. "I need to talk to you."

Unfortunately, she was not quiet enough, and Avery turned around when Severus stopped walking. "Wanting a quick snog before History of Magic, Evans?" he said loudly enough for several passersby to stop and stare.

"Sod off, Avery," Lily snapped, attempting to pull Severus farther away.

"I'd offer to take a turn after Snape here," Avery sneered, "but it'd take me months to wash off your Mudblood germs."

"Leave it alone," Severus mumbled, though whether he was talking to Lily or Avery was difficult to say.

"That's too bad," Lily replied sardonically, ignoring Severus and glaring at Avery. "Though I imagine I'd get more satisfaction out of snogging Nearly Headless Nick than I would out of you."

And with that, she finally succeeded in pulling Severus around the corner and into a nearby alcove that was, thankfully, deserted.

"He shouldn't have said that," Severus muttered, his face a blotchy puce. "About…about you and me going off, you know…"

"I don't give a piss about Avery," said Lily, glancing around once more to ensure they were truly alone. "I need to talk to you about Rosier's potion."

"Rosier's…? Lily, I told you to drop it. It's none of your business!"

"I know what you're making, Severus," she said, the thought of it making her voice shake. "I know what Rosier wants to do to Darlene Burke and it's _disgusting_ and it's Dark Magic and you shouldn't have _anything_ to do with it. Do you hear me? Anything."

He stared at her for a moment, his lips thin, the blotchiness of his face fading to a ghostly whiteness. "I don't know what you heard, but you're mistaken…"

"What I heard?" she repeated, resisting the urge to smack him. " _What I heard_ was you and Rosier in the library last night – talking where anybody might overhear you, may I add – and you mentioned Vipertooth blood in place of salamander blood, which would only work in a behavioral potion, and you mentioned Ashwinder eggs and monkshood, which when combined create a type of euphoric state of mind –" She cut off when he grabbed her wrist.

"Lily." He spoke lowly, and for a moment she had the urge to back away from him. "I don't care what you think you know. You need to leave it alone…"

"You're making a potion so that Evan Rosier can do whatever he wants to do with Darlene Burke, Severus." They stared at one another, her breath coming in short bursts through her nostrils and his jaw set stubbornly. "Tell me I'm wrong."

She hoped he would deny it, would explain it away, would tell her that of course there was another explanation, of course he would not be wrapped up in something so heinous. But he just continued staring.

"You disgust me," she spat, moving to push past him, but he still had a grip on her wrist and he pulled her back, glancing around at the passing students and exhaling slowly.

"It's not so he can do whatever he wants with her," he said at last. "It's just an inhibition minimizer. The idea was based off the modified Babbling Beverage you –"

"Don't you _dare_ compare what you're doing with that stupid Babbling Beverage," she hissed at him, wrenching her arm free. "All that did was make us chatty. A real inhibition minimizer makes people do things –"

"– that they want to do in reality but are too uncomfortable to do –"

"One of the books I read compared it to the Imperius Curse in potion form! Severus, listen to yourself. The Imperius Curse!"

"It's not, Lily. It's not that bad, I swear…"

"Dump it," she commanded, folding her arms across her chest and giving him the sternest glare she could muster. "Dump it down the drain today."

He actually had the nerve to scoff. "I can't do that, you know I can't. And look, I'm just making the potion, it's not my business what people do with it after…"

"Not your business?" she repeated, incredulous. She shook her head, at a loss, and decided to change tactics. "Please, Sev. Please get rid of the potion. Don't let him do this to Burke. No one deserves something like that. What if someone gave that to me, how would you feel?"

This, it seemed, made him falter. His eyes flickered from her face to the passing throng of students in the corridor to the floor and then back to her face again. "I…I'll think about it. I'm going to be late to class, Lily, I've got to go."

And then, without waiting for her to respond, he turned on his heel and hurried through the corridor toward the History of Magic classroom. Lily, however, was not so easily brushed off. He had only gone a few steps when she caught up to him again, bumping into a few Hufflepuffs as she went. "You will? You promise you'll think about it? You've got to, Sev, you've just got to –"

"I said I'll think about it, what more do you want?" he snapped, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he walked.

She wasn't sure what it was – the words coming out of his mouth or the look on his face – but she did not believe him. Despite what he may tell her, he would not consider getting rid of the potion, no matter how much she yelled or pleaded. The young boy she could cow with a withering scowl or wide puppy-dog eyes was now a stubborn fourteen-year-old wizard, with more important people to impress than the plucky Muggle-born girl from down the street.

The interaction might have stunned her, might have brought her to tears, might have infuriated her or induced a shock wave of nostalgia unlike what she had ever known. But she did not have time to weather any of those particular sentiments, because the next moment, a loud, unwelcome voice sounded close behind her, and an even more unwelcome arm was tossed casually over her shoulder.

"Evans!" exclaimed the cheerful, aggravating voice of James Potter. "What are you doing up here? And with old Snivelly to boot."

Both Lily and Severus froze in place, so James did too, grinning at them like a cat that had just caught a particularly tasty mouse. Behind him, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew lingered, watching the proceedings with an air of cautious amusement.

Lily suppressed an actual growl and, with two repulsed fingers, plucked James's arm off of her shoulder. Being pestered by James Potter was the exact last thing she had the patience to deal with at the moment.

"Potter, if you ever put your arm around me again, I promise you'll wake up the next morning with it no longer connected to your shoulder. Got it?"

"So violent, Evans," James said, tutting. "What are you doing all the way up here, anyway? You're going to be late for Charms, you know."

"It's none of your business, and _you're_ going to be late for Charms too."

Despite James's easy countenance and gleeful smirk, Lily could tell that he had noticed the wand that was now grasped tightly in Severus's hand. She stepped between the two as he said, "We're late on purpose every now and then to keep Flitwick on his toes. It helps the bloke see over desks, you know. Besides…" He pulled his wand from his pocket and spun it between his fingers, clearly readying himself in case Severus decided to strike. Lily stood her ground. "I saw you pop out from that alcove over there and remembered that I heard you signed up for the Arcana tournament."

"What's it to you?" Lily said, feeling Severus sidestep her and moving instinctively between them again. "Leave me alone, Potter."

"Just making pleasant conversation," he shrugged. "I'm the one that set up the tournament after all." And then he did something that told her, irrefutably, that the entire purpose of his little aside was not to pester her at all – it was to pester her in order to infuriate Severus. James winked not at her, but at the Slytherin who was slinking around her.

It happened in the blink of an eye, and had she not been readying herself for it, she may not have acted as quickly as she did. From behind her, Severus shouted a hex she did not recognize, James and Sirius both raised their wands simultaneously, Peter squeaked and shrank back behind Sirius, and with all the deftness she could muster, Lily flourished her own wand and yelled, _"Protego!"_

Whatever Severus had cast and whatever James had retaliated with disintegrated under the force of her Shield Charm. She spun on her heel, placing herself between the two once more, and looked directly at Severus.

From somewhere behind her, Sirius gave a low, impressed whistle. "That was some Shield Charm, Evans."

"We are _not_ dueling in the corridor right now," she snapped, ignoring Sirius entirely. "Go to class, Sev."

"Yeah, _Sev_ ," mocked James. "Listen to Evans and run along, will you?"

"Shut up, Potter," she snarled, putting her hand atop of Severus's when he moved to raise his wand again. "And get out of here. We didn't ask for you to come and bother us."

James smirked and raised one pacifying palm, his other hand still gripping his wand. "All right, all right," he said, backing away. "Looking forward to the Arcana tournament, Evans. Though if you're getting cozy with Adamsly, I reckon we'd all better watch out for your card skills, eh?"

And with that, thankfully, James, Sirius, and Peter ambled off around the corner, leaving Lily with Severus in the now deserted corridor. They were late.

"What's he talking about?" Severus said.

"Nothing." Lily tried to temper the blush that was creeping up her cheeks. "It's a card tournament the Gryffindors are having in a few weeks." He said nothing, so Lily changed subjects. "Look, we've got to get to class, and you've got to dump that potion, all right?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Dump the potion, Severus," she said as he backed toward the History of Magic classroom. "Please."

He nodded. "Yeah…all right…"

She stood frozen as he departed, eyes unfixed on the place he had been, wishing that she could believe him.

* * *

Over the next several days, Lily found herself unable to have a proper conversation with Severus. In their brief times together, he was terse and dismissive, and when she continued to press him, he insisted that he had heeded her advice and had gotten rid of the potion. She watched him closely during these instances and said little, her disappointment in him flooding her and crippling her ability to negotiate or persuade him. He was lying to her. And whether or not he was a passable liar to others did not matter, for she knew him better than anyone, and his lies were transparent.

She was therefore in a rather morose mood when Sunday evening found her once again at a table in the library, waiting for Darlene Burke to meet her to work more on their Ancient Runes project. Darlene was late, very late, and Lily was just starting to become annoyed by it when the girl in question slid into the chair across from her, pale cheeks speckled with pink and eyes very red. Lily's annoyance vanished at once.

"Er…"

"Sorry I'm late," the Slytherin muttered, not meeting Lily's gaze and focusing on unpacking her things from her bag.

"That's…that's okay."

"Where are you in the text?"

Lily stared. Despite her dismissive demeanor, the unflappable, icy cold Darlene Burke had clearly been crying. "Erm, third page, second paragraph down," she answered automatically. "Are you all right, Darlene?"

"What? Yes, yes I'm fine. I'll take the next paragraph."

And that, apparently, was that. Darlene flipped open her book and began her meticulous translation, and Lily, slightly disconcerted, followed suit. They worked in silence for several minutes until there was an unmistakable sniffle from the other side of the table. Lily's head jerked up. Darlene's red eyes were now very wet as well, though no tears had yet fallen.

"Darlene?"

Darlene sat back and looked up at the ceiling of the library, as if trying to will the tears not to fall. "If you tell _anyone_ about this Evans, I'll hex you into seventh year, got it?"

"I'm not going to…" Lily looked around. Aside from a group of fifth years studying for O.W.L.s several tables away, their corner of the library was deserted. "I won't say anything to anyone. Are you quite sure you're all right?"

"It's just…" Darlene took a deep breath, still not looking at Lily. "I mean, it's not _my_ fault she fancied him too. It's not as if she told me _before_ he asked me to Hosmeade, and what was I supposed to do, anyway? Tell him that I couldn't be his girlfriend after all just because Zelda decided she liked him as well? That wouldn't be fair to _him_ or _me_ , would it?"

It seemed to be a rhetorical question, because Lily didn't even have the time to open her mouth before Darlene continued.

"And, really, he's the best looking boy in our year, isn't he? I'm sure that loads of girls fancy him, and _he_ fancied _me_ , so even if she liked him, she should have been happy for me. She's _supposed_ to be my best friend, we've been best friends for _ages_ , and now she's just been _horrible_ and it's all because she's jealous and because he told everyone that we did…stuff…that we didn't actually do. And so she thinks I'm a slag now, when all I did was snog my boyfriend, who, _apparently_ , she's in love with."

The pink spots on Darlene's cheeks had reddened, but the tears brimming in her eyes had once again disappeared without falling. She seemed to be in some sort of trance. Lily wasn't sure she was even aware she was speaking to anyone, much less to a Gryffindor who she had only ever interacted with on a few occasions.

"And you know what the worst part is? _I_ broke it off with _him._ I didn't want to do all that he wanted me to do, and then when I told him I didn't even want to snog him anymore if he was going to act like that, he made up all those lies about me and all my friends abandoned me and now everyone in the year thinks I'm a slag, even though I'm _not._ And you'd think Zelda, at least, would be on my side, but she believes everything he said about me, or she's at least pretending to because she's cross that he fancied me and not her."

"Evan Rosier is a jerk," Lily told her, not sure if she was trying to comfort or reaffirm. "It's good that you're not his girlfriend anymore, Darlene."

"He's not that bad." The wet eyes were back. "I'm awful, aren't I? I still fancy him after everything he's said about me."

This, apparently, was _not_ a rhetorical question, and Lily wavered, her guilt-leaden mind on the potion that was currently brewing away in the third-year Slytherin boys' dormitory. She could not tell Darlene, though, not without getting Severus into trouble. Would he be expelled from Hogwarts if she were to alert someone? As angry as Lily was with him, it was not a risk she was willing to take.

"You're not awful," Lily said.

"I am though." Darlene's face was earnest, and at last she met Lily's eyes, vulnerable and lost. "Why do I fancy someone like that? Why would I give up my friends for a boy who spreads awful lies about me?"

"You're not," repeated Lily. "We all do stupid things for the people we care about, even when they're being stupid themselves." She paused, her stomach churning with self-reproach, before adding with a touch of humor, "And he _is_ quite good-looking."

"He is, isn't he?" Darlene said with a trace of wistfulness. "Those blue eyes…"

Lily smiled sadly. "But he's not a good person. And you deserve better than that, Darlene."

It was an awkward moment, and an awkward location, and an awkward conversation to be had between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor who barely knew one another. Darlene seemed to realize this and with a deep breath, composed herself once more. Lily watched her, mystified, as the red disappeared from her eyes and her cheeks went pale again, as if under the enchantment of some sort of beautifying spell. Smoothing her brown hair down around her shoulders, Darlene straightened her back and arched an eyebrow at Lily – a much more standard look from the Slytherin.

"Thanks Evans," she said, her normally stoic tone returned but laced with gratefulness all the same. "We should get back to work or we'll have to meet back again next week."

Lily nodded, recognizing the dismissal of topic, but for the rest of the evening, she was unable to focus on anything other than the thought of Severus's potion and its intended purpose. No, she did not want to get him expelled, and she would do everything in her power to ensure that did not happen, but she also could not sit idly by while a snake like Evan Rosier did something as malicious and disgusting as drugging and taking advantage of Darlene Burke.

The question was, how could she protect both Darlene and Severus at the same time? Pleading with Severus had gotten her nowhere, and she did not expect him to suddenly change his tune. Going to a teacher was not an option, for Severus would be expelled. Confiding in any of her friends was out of the question, for she would be breaking not only Severus's trust, but also Darlene's.

And so, she researched. Once again, Lily was the last person awake in the common room that evening, her tired eyes glued to various Potions books, her hand cramped from the hasty notes she jotted down every few seconds. As long as she could diagram the exact alterations Severus had made to his brew process, she would be able to figure out a harmless way to manipulate the effects of the potion on the drinker. Luckily, Lily had spent nearly three years working on Potions assignments and tricks alongside Severus, and she knew the way his brain worked. Discovering a way to counteract the potion so that it would not produce its intended results on Darlene Burke took her a few hours, but was easy enough. The difficult part, then, was coming up with a way to mix the extra ingredients into the existing potion, which was currently simmering somewhere in the Slytherin boys' dormitory.

There was no getting around it. Lily knew of only two non-Slytherins who knew how to sneak around in other houses' dormitories, and, lucky for her, they were both Gryffindors in her year. Unlucky for her, one of those two people annoyed the living daylights out of her on a regular basis. The other, she reasoned with herself as she rubbed her bleary eyes in the wee hours of the following morning, would have to do.

* * *

"Black! Hey, Black!"

The wet, mud-logged April grass squelched under his feet as he strolled out of the Herbology greenhouse, looking for all the world like he was not just scolded and held back by Professor Sprout after class to be assigned a detention. The amusement in jinxing a Tibetan Turnip to sing inappropriate limericks was evidently enough to justify a night's worth of cleaning out soiled flower pots.

"Morning, Evans," said Sirius, looking only slightly surprised as she hurried to catch up to him. "Aren't you going to be late for class? This is turning into a habit, you know."

"It's fine. I've Care of Magical Creatures, and Kettleburn won't mind." This was not entirely true, but Lily had more important matters concerning her, and finding a time to speak to Sirius Black when he was alone had been surprisingly difficult. "I wanted to ask you something."

Sirius reconvened his stroll up the muddy hill toward the castle, and despite the fact that Lily was now going in the exact opposite direction from where she was supposed to be, she followed.

"Well this is new."

"I wanted to ask you for a favor."

He stopped abruptly to turn and look at her, and they both slid down a few inches in the mud. "Are you yanking my wand?"

She gave him a look. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I would," he quipped, smirking.

She ignored him, taking a moment to gather her courage before blurting out, "I need you to tell me how to get into the Slytherin common room undetected."

A second's worth of surprised silence passed before Sirius let out a breathy laugh and looked around, as though trying to see whether someone was playing a trick on him. "What makes you think that I –"

"Because I'm not thick," Lily cut in. "So let's not even waste time debating the point. I know you know how to get in there, and I'm asking you to tell me."

He narrowed his eyes at her, sizing her up. "Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"Not going to cut it, Evans," he said, turning and starting to make his way toward the castle once more. Lily slipped a little as she made to follow him. "You want my help, you tell me the details."

She had worried about him having this reaction. "I can't, it's…" she repeated, faltering. "Someone could get hurt."

From the castle, the sound of the bell echoed across the wet grounds. They were both now officially late to class. Sirius glanced at her out of the side of his eye and then shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, before extracting a piece of parchment from his pocket and flipping it through his fingers with casual distraction. "You know what's great about Sprout?"

"What?" she asked, caught off-guard by his abrupt change in topic.

He flipped the piece of parchment once more and grinned at her. "Even when she's assigning me a detention, she writes me a note to give to Professor Lumpkin, so I don't get _another_ detention for showing up late to Muggle Studies."

"Bully for you," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Now will you help me or not?"

"You're a difficult person to deny, what with that cheery attitude," Sirius said, snorting as they reached the castle. He held the heavy stone door open for her. "Why don't you just ask your mate Snivellus? I'm sure he'd like nothing more than to sneak you into his dormitory."

"Shut it, that's not true," snapped Lily, starting to rethink this whole grand idea of asking Sirius Black for help in the first place. "And I can't. But it's really important, Sirius, I wouldn't be asking you if it wasn't."

He sighed and paused to lean against a pillar in the empty entrance hall, propping his foot up behind him so that it left a muddy smear along the stone, which he did not seem to notice.

"I can't help you," he said at length. "I can't get into the Slytherin common room –"

"Bollocks," argued Lily. "Of course you can, you –"

He held up a hand to silence her. "Merlin, Evans, let me finish, will you?" There was a pause as he looked around the hall, clearly debating what to tell her, before saying, "I can't get into the Slytherin common room alone. But James can. Ask James."

This was not the response she had expected. She stared at him. "I – _What?"_

"Ask James to help you," repeated Sirius, shrugging and shoving his hands in his pockets. The mud from his raised shoe was now dripping onto the castle floor. "He's the one that can get in there whenever he wants. It's…a particular skill of his."

Lily gaped, horror pooling in her stomach. Asking James Potter for help was right up there with asking Marshall Avery to go to Hogsmeade with her on the list of things she never, ever wanted to do. Sirius seemed to realize her conundrum, and a devilish smile crept up his face.

"He won't bite, you know. And he might actually help you, if you're nice."

"Nice?" Lily echoed stupidly.

"Nice. As in, don't shove your wand in his face. Don't threaten to hex him. Don't bite his head off. You know, _nice."_ He laughed at the look of dismay on Lily's face and pushed himself off the pillar, turning to walk through a side door that led to the basement stairs. "Anyway, that's all I've got for you, I'm afraid. Good luck, Evans."

She stared after his retreating form for a moment before calling, "Black!" He paused and turned. "I thought you had Muggle Studies? Isn't it on the fifth floor?"

"Ah," he said, waving the note from Sprout at her. "I've got an excuse to be late, see. I'm off to the kitchens for a bite. Want to join?"

"I'll pass," Lily said weakly, her thoughts on the inauspicious task ahead of her. "Just don't…er, don't say anything about this to anyone." He gave her a look. "Please?" she added, in the nicest tone she could muster.

"That's the spirit," he said. "And your secrets are safe with me, Evans. Ta."

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Lily quite alone, quite late for class, and quite dreading the prospect of asking James Potter to help her destroy a potion brewed by Severus Snape.


	32. 3-11 or 'Black and White'

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 32 - 3.11 or "Black and White"**

* * *

"Let me get this straight. _You_ , Lily Evans, need a favor from _me,_ James Potter?"

It was, Lily supposed, the worst time she could have chosen to talk to him, but as she had put off the unpleasant task of having this conversation until the last possible evening, she had been forced to pull James Potter aside during the boisterous party that followed the Gryffindor Quidditch team's win over Ravenclaw. Potter himself had scored five of the team's eleven goals and was, thus, standing in front of her in all his smug glory – arms crossed, red and gold banner thrown over his shoulders like some sort of ludicrous cape, self-satisfied smile pulling at his lips.

"Don't get used to it," Lily told him, swallowing her pride.

James's grin widened. "And what exactly would _I,_ James Potter, be able to offer _you,_ Lily Evans?"

"Will you stop talking like that?" she snapped. "I know our names, Potter, and I'm aware of the irony in my having to ask you for anything, so you don't have to point it out anymore."

"Ah, but I'm just surprised, is all, Evans. Last time we spoke you threatened to dismember me in my sleep, if I remember correctly."

"And right now I'm tempted to rip off my own arm, just for something to throw at you, Potter."

"But you'll restrain yourself, because you need a favor." He paused before adding gleefully, "From _me_."

Lily had the urge to walk away right then, but there was the unavoidable fact was that tonight was the last night that her modifications to Severus's potion would be possible; if the extra lacewing flies were added any later, they might make the potion unsafe to drink. She calmed herself and looked the boy straight in the eye.

"It's serious, Potter. I wouldn't be coming to you if it weren't."

Something in her tone must have gotten through to him, as his grin faded just a bit and he put his hands in his pockets, surveying her closely.

"All right. Let's hear it, then."

But Lily barely had a chance to respond before Jeremiah Peakes, a sixth-year Beater, had appeared from nowhere to sling an arm around James's shoulder and tousle his hair affectionately.

"C'mon, Potter!" he said, grinning down at James and not acknowledging Lily whatsoever. "Walker's lining up teams to play Imbibing Snap with some Agrippa's Ale that Beal smuggled in. We need another lightweight to offset Gudgeon. You in?"

James looked over at the boisterous group of Gryffindors by the fire who were unabashedly passing around brown bottles of ale and Exploding Snap cards. For a second, Lily thought he would brush her off, rush to join the center of the festivities, boast about being the only third year invited to join the group in their game. But he surprised her.

"Not tonight, mate," he said, ducking out from under Peakes's arm and giving him a jovial shove to the shoulder. He threw Lily a strangely surreptitious glance before adding, "Find Adamsly. I'm sure he's more lightweight than me."

"Next time, yeah?" Peakes said, giving a similar shove to James and disappearing to find a suitable replacement. James turned his attention back to Lily, who suddenly felt inexplicably awkward.

"What's Imbibing Snap?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "No idea." They both turned at the loud swell in cheering as Fiona Beal finished one of the brown bottles all in one go, a pile of smoldering Exploding Snap cards lying in front of her.

"Let's go in the corridor where it's quieter," James suggested, already moving toward the portrait hole.

"But it's after curfew!" The words had barely escaped Lily's mouth before she realized how stupid they sounded.

James just grinned at her and kept walking. "Exactly. So no one'll be out there but the Fat Lady, and she won't shop us out."

Lily had no choice but to follow him, and once they were safely in the seventh-floor corridor and the portrait hole had swung closed to block out the music and party from within, she felt moderately better. At least he was taking her seriously.

"All right," James said, leaning his back against the wall in front of her. "What's it that you need, then?"

"I –" She paused to make sure they were truly alone in the corridor. The Fat Lady was watching them curiously, but other than that, there was no one in sight. Nevertheless, she whispered when she said, "I need your help sneaking into the Slytherin dormitories."

She said it very fast. James stared at her for long enough that she wondered if he had comprehended her question. Then he frowned.

"Why?"

"There's a potion," she told him, trying to block out the thought of what Severus would do if he ever found out about this conversation. It would be the end of their friendship, undoubtedly. "There's a potion brewing there…and we've got to…I mean, _I've_ got to mess it up. Keep it from its intended purpose."

James snorted, but it was humorless and dry. In fact, all traces of his previous good humor were now gone. "A potion?" he repeated. "Let me guess…it's the work of your dear friend Snivellus?"

"No," Lily lied quickly. "And don't call him that. It's…it's one of the other third-year boys, but I don't know which one. I just know it's being brewed in their dormitory."

"Then why don't you ask Snivellus to get rid of it for you?"

"He can't," she said, trying to keep the panic at bay. This had been a terrible mistake. There was no way James would do this for her, and even if he did, he would not keep it quiet. James Potter never kept _anything_ quiet. "It doesn't matter about him, okay?"

James was no longer leaning against the stone wall, but was standing straight with his arms crossed once more. He still had the Gryffindor banner tied around his neck, but he may have forgotten about it, for all the attention he paid it. She thought absurdly of Muggle comic book heroes and their elegant, costumed capes. He raised an eyebrow and said harshly, "It doesn't?"

Then, for a moment, Lily was reminded of how angry James had become during their first lesson back after Christmas, their first lesson after the Fallen Five, when Lionel Marigold had tried to defend Voldemort's followers in Defense class. She swallowed hard and broke his gaze.

"No. It doesn't. It doesn't have anything to do with Severus, Potter. I just found out about it accidentally. I overheard something in the library that makes me think that someone is going to get properly hurt –"

"So go to a teacher."

"I can't go to a teacher. I'm…I'm not sure if I'm right about it or not." He remained staring at her, eyebrow raised. "Look," she said, about to admit defeat, "I came to you because I thought you could help me. There's a chance there's some really Dark Magic going on and I can't go to a teacher and I don't know anyone else that can get into the Slytherin dormitories like you can, but if you don't want to help me then just say so and we can forget this conversation ever took place and I'll –"

Something she had said made his eyes widen behind his glasses. "Dark Magic?" he interrupted. "It's Dark Magic, this potion?"

Now Lily faltered, wondering if she had said too much. "I…I don't know. It seems like it could be, yeah."

But James had straightened and steeled himself as if preparing for something. "Okay," he said easily. "What do I need to do?"

His sudden change in countenance had thoroughly discombobulated her. "We…what?"

"To get rid of the potion. Do you want me to just dump it?"

"Oh!" She bit her lip. "Well you can just show me how to get in and I can take it from there."

"Nope," he said quickly. "I'll help you with the potion, but I'm not giving you all my secrets, Evans. Tell me what I need to do and I'll do it…alone."

It had been a leap of faith, to trust James Potter with this information at all, but the idea of trusting him to carry out her plan entirely on his own was almost too much. Lily weighed her options. She could not get into the Slytherin common room without him, that much was clear, and if she waited any longer to act, her entire plan might be worthless and Darlene Burke would be the one paying the price.

"Okay," she said slowly, meeting his eye. "I have a vial full of boiled lacewing flies in my bag ready to go. All you need to do is add them to the potion before sunrise tomorrow morning. It'll make the effects of the potion harmless, for all intents and purposes." _And Severus won't ever know that anyone tampered with it,_ she added silently to herself. _He'll only think he miscalculated the timing of the lacewing._

"Before sunrise? Merlin, Evans, we're in the middle of a party here!"

"I know and I'm…" She swallowed. "…sorry…to pull you away from your celebration, Potter, but it's got to be tonight."

"It's got to be?"

"Yes."

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

He didn't seem annoyed. On the contrary, something about his face now hinted at his amusement. "Oh all right."

Lily stared. "I can trust you, Potter?"

"Trust me to add lacewing flies to a potion in the Slytherin dormitories?" James repeated, frowning as if seriously pondering the question.

"And to keep it quiet?" He grinned now and Lily once again fought back her panic. "And to not – I don't know – transfigure all their floors into ice or some rubbish like that while you're in there?" His grin widened. "Potter! Promise me that adding the lacewing flies is all you'll do when you're in there tonight."

James chuckled but nodded all the same. "I'll save the floor transfigurations for next time, Evans, you have my word."

"Thank you," she told him, meaning it, wondering why James Potter couldn't always be this…decent.

He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but looked rather pleased with himself nonetheless. They stood awkwardly for a few moments, both gazing around the corridor as to not look too much at the other, before James said, "Shall we go back in, then? You can fetch me the lacewing flies."

"Right," Lily nodded, making to follow him as he started to move back toward the portrait hole, but then a sudden recollection took hold and she blurted out, " _Abracadabra!_ "

James froze and turned to look at her as if she were mad. " _Huh?_ "

" _Abracadabra_ ," Lily repeated. She had meant to use it as some sort of trade or truce, if he had been difficult to convince. His willingness to help her sans bribery, however, had caused her to almost forget about the password completely.

His expression told her that she had just confirmed his previous suspicions about her sanity. "Are you trying to use a Killing Curse on me, Evans? Because you've got the incantation wrong."

"What? No. _Abracadabra_. It's the password to unlock the Sticking Charm on your Arrows posters. I got it from Gin earlier today."

" _Abracadabra?_ "

"Yes. You've only got to point your wand at each poster and say it and they'll unlock."

"But there's about a hundred posters in there!"

"Well I never claimed it'd be a quick process, did I?"

"All right." He paused, looking her over. "You didn't have to give me the password just because I'm doing you a favor, you know."

"I know," Lily said, wondering again why she felt so inexplicably self-conscious. "But it's just…it's a nice thing you're doing for me, Potter. I reckoned I could do something…nice…in return."

"All right," James said again.

And as she followed him back into the common room, Lily could not fail to notice how red the tips of his ears were, nor how warm her own cheeks felt.

* * *

"There you are!" said Sirius, as James pulled him out of a crowd of Gryffindors several minutes later, the boiled lacewing flies now securely in his pocket. "Where've you been? Walker just had to down three bottles of ale in about a minute. Gudgeon's started taking bets on who'll get ill first." He lowered his voice. "I was thinking we could put money on Adamsly as the underdog and then –"

"Not tonight," James said, navigating to an out-of-the-way table. "And I wouldn't put money on Adamsly for anything…"

"Okay," Sirius shrugged, entirely unconcerned as he collapsed lazily into one of the study chairs. "Let's grab Moony and Peter, then, and take a spin with the rest of that firewhisky you've got stowed in your trunk from Boxing Day."

"Can't." James sat down next to Sirius and leaned in conspiratorially. "We're going out tonight. Need our wits about us."

This seemed to spark Sirius's interest. "Oh? Going out where?"

"The Slytherin dormitories. Evans has asked me to do her a favor."

Sirius stared at James for a moment before letting out a bark of laughter and shaking his head. "I'm not doing that with you. Are you mental?"

"Why not?" said James, taken aback by his friend's reaction. Sirius never turned down an opportunity to mess up the Slytherins' plans.

"Evans asked _you_. Now's your chance to…you know… _impress her_ , or whatever."

"Impress her?" James repeated, dumbfounded. "What the bloody hell do I need to impress Evans for? And why does it seem like you already knew about this?"

"Because I did." Sirius tilted his chair back and grinned at James. "And you need to impress her because you bloody well fancy her, so stop pretending you don't."

"I don't fancy…"

"And she came to me asking about the Slytherin common room…"

"She came to you? When did this hap…"

"…and it was the perfect opportunity, wasn't it, to have to send her your way…"

"…could have at least given me a head's up…"

"…and you've got the cloak anyway…"

"…completely blindsided by the whole thing…"

"…so it's not as if _I_ could get in there without you…"

"…and even if I _did_ fancy Evans…"

"…which you do…"

"…it's not as if I would need _your_ help to impress her…"

"…and so it completely defeats the purpose if I go along with you tonight. You're on your own for this one, mate."

James glared at Sirius, annoyed and not entirely able to discern what was annoying him so.

"You're an arse, you know that?"

Sirius's grin only widened.

* * *

Lily had thought that she was in for another sleepless night of tossing and turning and worrying, and though she had planned on going back down to the common room after the party ended to wait for James to return, she surprised herself by falling asleep and not rousing until the next morning, long after the sky had brightened into a dull, rainy day. She dressed quickly and waited in the common room for her fellow Gryffindors to make their ways down the dormitory staircases, but seeing as how the reveling the night before had continued well past midnight, the common room remained fairly deserted until late in the morning. When Adin finally appeared and insisted that Lily venture to the Great Hall to find some breakfast with her, Lily had still not caught sight of James.

In fact, she did not see him at all until that evening, when she was making her way from the library to the Great Hall for dinner and spotted him climbing one of the moving staircases near the trophy room. Abandoning her thoughts of the hearty beef and celery stew that was no doubt waiting for her at the Gryffindor table, she pivoted toward the staircase and hurried after him.

"Potter!"

He paused and turned to watch as she took the steps two at a time to catch up to where he stood toward the top of the flight, his broomstick thrown over his shoulder. Now that she was closer, she noticed that he was dripping water and mud across the stone stairs. Evidently, he had just come in from the Quidditch pitch.

"Where have you been?" she demanded stupidly once she had reached him. Her senses had apparently gone on to dinner without her.

James quirked his head and gave her a slightly mocking look. "I thought you had to be observant to be so good at Potions, Evans." He dislodged his broomstick from his shoulder and poked her arm with it. "Clearly I've been sweeping out the courtyard in the middle of a storm, just for the fun of it."

"Funny," said Lily, batting away the broomstick. "I meant, where have you been all day? I've been trying to find you since breakfast."

He shrugged. "Missed breakfast in the Great Hall because I was up late doing _someone_ a favor, wasn't I? Had a late meal in the kitchens instead." For a second, he looked around, as if trying to detect a far away sound, and then without warning, he turned and hopped up the remaining stairs and onto the fifth floor. Lily stared at him but remained frozen.

"You better hurry," he said, looking down at her. "The stairs are going to move any minute now, and then you'll be stuck in the History of Magic corridor."

She heeded his advice and had only just stepped into place next to him when a loud creaking and groaning alerted them to his accuracy – the stone staircase was indeed moving away from where they stood, replaced by a common stone balustrade.

Lily tried to conceal just how impressed she was. "How did you know that was about to happen?"

James feigned a casual shrug and said mysteriously, "I can sense these things, is all."

For a moment, she was tempted to continue questioning him, but then she decided she had more important matters to get to, as it were.

"Did you do it, then?" she whispered. "The potion?"

"Of course I did it." He did not bother to lower his voice as she had, and she looked around the corridor in alarm, half-expecting to see Severus skulking by. "I told you I would, didn't I?"

"And you added all the lacewing I gave you? The whole vial?"

He nodded solemnly. "Every last poor little boiled bugger."

"And you didn't add anything else? And you didn't – I dunno – stir it or anything?"

"Just the flies, like you ordered, Sergeant Evans." He saluted her.

"And you didn't put any Dungbombs in anyone's socks or…I don't know…stink pellets in anyone's nostrils?"

"You've got a hard time trusting people, don't you, Evans?"

 _Only as of late_ , thought Lily somewhat resignedly. But instead, she responded, "Just making sure. I haven't got a clue how your mind works, Potter, but…thanks. Again, I mean. For helping me."

"You're welcome. Again," he said, smiling slightly. "And I'm off to wash up. I'm soaking wet and bloody freezing here, after all."

She nodded as he began to walk away, his broomstick once again propped against his shoulder, and she watched him for a moment before he turned back to her.

"Oi, Evans. You have got a clue, you know."

"What?" she replied, caught off-guard.

"How my mind works." He grinned and tapped at his temple with his index finger. "Transfiguring the floor to ice? Stink pellets in their nostrils? They're not bad ideas…not bad at all."

And then he turned down an adjacent corridor and was gone, leaving Lily all alone with an unsettled feeling in her hungry stomach. All she had to do now was wait for the potion to finish brewing. Only then would she know just how truthful James Potter was in helping her. But despite their history, despite his penchant for annoying her to no end, despite his hatred for Severus Snape, Lily found herself – against her own better judgment – trusting him.

And so she waited. As the Easter break began, she distracted herself by refocusing on her schoolwork and by actively avoiding both James and Severus, which was much easier when they did not have lessons to attend. It was not as though she felt guilty for destroying the potion that Severus had spent months brewing; in fact, she felt a righteous satisfaction that he and Evan Rosier would be so unpleasantly surprised by its results. She did, however, feel a certain twinge of guilt for who, exactly, she had recruited to help her in her plan. James Potter was a prat. It had been black and white to her for over a year. She did not like James Potter at all. He did everything he could to aggravate her, even going so far as asking her to Hogsmeade once, just to get under Severus's skin. He was arrogant, immature, and mean to her best friend. And yet he had been so willing to help her, so willing to trust her, so willing to do his part to foil Dark Magic when it was brought to his attention.

No less fuzzy were Lily's feelings toward Severus, whose actions of late she certainly did not agree with. He was no longer the boy who used to laugh and play with her at the park, no longer the boy whose eyes had lit up as he told her all about a new, magical world, no longer the boy who would let her win at chess from time to time, feigning ignorance when she called him out on his tactics. Now, he spent his free time messing around with the dark arts, brewing disgusting potions for sadistic, selfish boys like Evan Rosier. But he was still her best friend, and despite what Severus might claim otherwise, Lily knew he had always wanted to belong. She only wished he had tried to fit in with a more pleasant group of students. She was angry with him, but part of her knew that she could not blame him for the actions of his classmates.

Lily's nerves and patience were tested, then, when Severus pulled her aside in the corridor on the Friday of Easter break. She had been walking back from lunch with Adin, who rolled her eyes and waited for her halfway down the corridor.

"Meet me in the library in an hour," Severus told her, without so much as a greeting.

Annoyed, she was about to retort with a quippy remark, but faltered when she noticed his anxious expression. Instead, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can't tell you now," he said, glancing around at where Adin stood, examining her fingernails. He was paler than usual, his eyes darting about like a cornered animal. "An hour. In the Potions section, corner table."

"All right," said Lily, but he had already released her arm and swept off in the opposite direction.

Adin did not bother to ask what Severus had wanted as they resumed their walk, and Lily spent the following hour fretting that Severus had somehow deduced her role in destroying his potion. But that was impossible, she told herself as she waited at the specified corner table one hour later. Severus had no reason to think she was able to sneak into his dormitory, and had even less reason to believe that she would ever stoop so low as teaming up with James Potter. Her stomach squirmed guiltily at the thought and she tried to keep her expression innocent when Severus arrived, placing several old, moldy books on the table in front of her.

"I need your help," he said, sitting down himself and flipping open one of the stained covers to begin poring over.

She stared at him. "With what?"

He looked up at her now, stubborn yet vulnerable. His voice shook when he whispered, "I bungled the potion I was working on. The one for Rosier. I know you wanted me to flush it, but I didn't and it all went wrong. And I've got to figure out what mistake I made."

She breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't suspicious, though he was, apparently, pretty daft when it came to her views on this whole thing.

"You're joking, right?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you think I would want to help you with anything to do with that potion? Like you said, I told you to dump the bloody thing weeks ago."

He turned his gaze back to his book before muttering, "Rosier was just discharged from the hospital wing and Burke's still in there."

Lily's insides went cold. "Wh – what? Are they all right? What happened?"

He still did not look at her. "They drank the potion yesterday evening. Both of them. And it didn't work as intended."

She calmed herself with a breath. She had guaranteed the potion would not work as intended. Glancing quickly around the vicinity to ensure that no one was near, she whispered, "There's no way it could have poisoned them, Sev. A behavioral potion like that… Only the Vipertooth blood…and the monkshood should counteract… Even if you mis-brewed somehow, it wouldn't have been anything terrible…"

"It wasn't. But they both went…odd. Avery found them on the grounds, unable to stop laughing. Their lips were blue, but it wasn't cold out yesterday. Supposedly, they told Madam Pomfrey they had been practicing Cheering Charms on one another, though I'm sure she didn't believe them."

"Rosier drank it too?" Lily asked, confused.

Severus shrugged and flipped a page in the book, though he clearly hadn't yet read anything. "I told you, it's not my business what they do with it after I brew it." He paused before adding, "Avery says Rosier is out for my blood."

"And that's why you wanted to meet in this back corner instead of at our usual table?"

"I'm not scared of Evan Rosier, if that's what you're saying," he said brusquely. "But I need to know what went wrong, and I need to know fast. You're the only person who can help me."

Lily shook her head, amazed at his audacity. She crossed her arms, partially to hide her fidgeting hands from him. "I'm not helping you with this. No way."

"But –"

"No way," she repeated. "You got yourself into this mess, Sev. And I told you it wasn't going to end well, and thank God it ended up how it did, eh? No one got hurt terribly, and Darlene Burke didn't get taken advantage of, and…" She paused, hoping, _praying_ , that she was a good enough liar that he would not see through her words. "…And I'm glad you bungled it. Maybe it'll teach you a lesson about fooling about with Dark Magic for snotrags like Evan Rosier."

Severus drew his lips into a thin line, and Lily knew the expression to mean he was angry with her, though she could not be bothered at the moment to care too much. After a moment, he said in a low voice, "I had started brewing a potion for Rabastan Lestrange –"

"Another one?" she interrupted him. "What kind of potion?"

"Hydration Tonics. For Quidditch training. He was going to pay me five Sickles a vial."

"Was?" she echoed, feeling the stirrings of guilt despite herself.

"Well he's not going to pay me anymore, is he? Why would anyone want to buy one of my potions now if they don't work as they should?"

Lily shifted in her chair. She hadn't wanted to mess things up so badly for him. "Well," she said slowly, her mind at work. "Well…what if you don't charge people for the first few vials, then. Let them see that they work?" She shrank back at the look he threw her. "No? Okay, well what if you sample them first, then, witnessed by whoever's buying. You can demonstrate the effects yourself, so they know they won't turn up after with blue appendages."

He glared at her before turning back to his book, and Lily allowed him to sulk in peace for a few moments.

"Hi, Lily!"

The sensation of her stomach flipping over alerted her to the owner of that particular voice before she had even turned in her seat. "Oh! Hi, Andrew."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Severus jerk his head toward her, but she kept her focus on the boy who now stood in front of her, a few library books under his arm and a broad smile on his face.

"I was looking up some books for a Slughorn essay when I saw you over here," Andrew said, indicating the books in his hand. "Thought I'd say hello."

"Hello," she said, grinning at him.

"Hello," he echoed, his own smile broadening.

"Hello," Severus said coldly. If Lily had been turned the other way, she would have kicked him under the table for his tone of voice.

"Oh." Andrew's grin faltered a bit as he nodded at Severus. "Hello, there, er –?"

"Snape." Severus's expression was venomous. "And you are?"

"This is Andrew, Sev," Lily cut in, hoping her cheerful voice could defuse some of the tension. "Andrew Adamsly. He's helping me learn Arcana, remember?"

"Charmed," Severus muttered, but Andrew's attention had already gone back to Lily.

"Helping you learn?" Andrew laughed. "You're playing circles round me these days, Lily. _I'll_ be asking _you_ for help in Potter's tournament tomorrow."

"I don't know about that," said Lily. "You're still loads better at the counting than I am, Andrew."

"Well how about one more lesson, then? Tonight after dinner?"

Lily's face was surely on fire but it did not prevent a wide smile from taking up residence. She tried not to sound too giddy when she said, "All right. See you then."

"See you then, Lily," Andrew said, starting to move away from their table. Then he paused and said awkwardly, "Uh, bye…" He seemed to have forgotten Severus's name.

"Snape," spat Severus again.

"Right. Bye, Snape," he said, but his eyes were still on Lily when he rounded the corner out of sight.

There was an ugly, lingering silence at their table, but Lily barely noticed until Severus's coarse voice broke it.

"He doesn't want to just be teaching you cards."

Lily looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"That bloke. Adam or whatever."

"Andrew," Lily corrected. "Andrew Adamsly."

"He wants more than just to be your Arcana tutor. And why are you playing in Potter's tournament anyway?"

She ignored the accusing nature of his question and shrugged casually. "I'm good at it, Arcana. And if I win the tournament, I'll win enough gold to buy myself an owl, maybe some new robes, maybe a decent Christmas present for you next year," she said, nudging him.

He did not respond, but turned back to his book and began reading. Knowing how much energy it would take to attempt to cheer him up when he was in this sort of sour mood, Lily sat back and fiddled with the hem of her robes, her thoughts turning back to Andrew and the way he had smiled at her…

"You can go," muttered Severus after five minutes or so.

Lily broke out of her daydream and sat up straight. "I know, but I don't mind –"

"If you're not going to help me, you should go," Severus told her. "Your sitting here isn't doing me any good, and your fidgeting is distracting me."

Not in the mood to argue with him, Lily rose and grabbed her things. "All right," she said. "I've got someone I need to go talk to anyway. See you later, Sev."

He ignored her, his eyes locked on his book. She hesitated before reaching out and squeezing his shoulder as she passed by, allowing her hand to linger there even after she felt his flinch.

* * *

When Lily arrived in the hospital wing a little while later, she was surprised to see who was already present next to Darlene Burke's hospital bed – none other than Zelda Carmichael and Lelita Aubrey, Darlene's former friends.

"Evans," greeted Darlene, somehow looking as pristine and unruffled as ever, even while confined to the infirmary. Her lips were no longer blue, Lily noticed.

"What are you doing here?" snapped Carmichael.

Lily gave a nonchalant shrug and gestured toward the bag on her shoulder. "I brought you the finished Ancient Runes paper, Darlene. I thought you might want to review it one more time before we hand it in on Tuesday."

Carmichael narrowed her eyes at Lily and looked as if she were about to say something, but Darlene cut her off.

"It's all right," Darlene told her. "You can stay."

There was a sniff from Carmichael, who rose from her chair and dusted nonexistent lint off her skirt. "We'll just be going then, Dar." She jerked her head at Aubrey, who sprang up from her own seat at once. "I get enough of Ancient Runes in lessons. I don't need to witness the two of you prattling on about it during hols."

"We'll come back after supper," Aubrey assured her. She then added with a giggle, "If Evan isn't visiting you, that is."

"All right," said Darlene. "See you then."

"Bye!"

"Bye, Dar!"

Lily watched the two Slytherin girls exit. The door to the hospital wing had barely swung shut when she turned back to Darlene, who was watching her with a somewhat smug expression.

"'Dar' is it, now?" asked Lily, moving toward the hospital bed but not assuming one of the now-vacant seats. "What happened to 'Tartlene?'"

"We've made up," she said simply. "Zelda's going out with Marshall Avery now, didn't you know? She no longer cares about me and Evan."

"Is that right?"

Darlene raised an eyebrow. Lily sometimes forgot that that particular eyebrow was not permanently elevated in a skeptical arch. "I'm perfectly fine," Darlene said, straightening one of the sleeves on her robes. "If that's why you're really here. I'm sure Adin Balini sent you to get all the gossip on me, is that it?"

"No," answered Lily honestly.

"No?" Darlene repeated, the eyebrow traveling farther up her forehead. "Well someone's talking about me, then. How else would you know where I am?"

Lily did not look away. "I'm glad you're all right," she said. She extracted the Ancient Runes essay from her bag and handed it over. "And I did bring you the paper to take a look if you want. I've already reviewed it, but I may have missed something. I only just found that we had mistranslated 'hood' for 'foot' in the first paragraph."

"'Little Red Riding Foot?'" Darlene asked dryly.

"Sounds painful," nodded Lily.

There was a beat of awkward silence before Darlene said, "It was Snape, wasn't it, who made the potion for Evan? That's how you know?" Lily said nothing, which Darlene must have taken as tacit assent, so she went on. "I reckoned as much, though I didn't think he'd ever mis-brewed a potion in his life. Too bad, I guess, though my lips are back to normal and I'm not giggling like a mental person any longer."

Lily considered sitting down next to the bed, but thought better of it. Despite what they had learned about each other over the past few weeks, sitting next to someone's hospital bed suggested a level of friendship that Lily was certain they had not, nor would ever, reach.

"You knew what you were taking, then?" she asked.

"You mean did Evan try to lace my pumpkin juice?" A flash of a rare smile crossed her lips. "No, I knew what I was taking. We were both going to take it. For fun, you know?"

Lily stared. Everything – all the fretting and researching and plotting with James Potter had been entirely unnecessary. Darlene Burke had never been in any danger of being taken advantage of at all. In fact, she had been a willing participant. Lily had destroyed both Severus's prized potion and his reputation among his classmates for no reason. She suddenly felt rather ill.

"It was Dark Magic, though, wasn't it?" she asked, trying to justify her actions in her own mind.

This time, both of Darlene's eyebrows shot up. "Was it?" she said, entirely unconcerned. "Maybe a little, I guess. But not everything's so black and white as that, is it?"

Lily shrugged, feigning casualness when she really wanted nothing more than to get out of that room. "Take a look at the paper, though, will you? Before Tuesday?"

Not even batting an eye at the change of subject, Darlene nodded her response.

"See you later, Burke," said Lily, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder and moving toward the door of the hospital wing.

"See you later, Evans," she heard Darlene say, but Lily did not look back before pushing her way into the corridor.

She remained subdued for the rest of the day, and even her practice session with Andrew Adamsly that evening did little to cheer her up. It hadn't been her business, what Severus had been concocting with Rosier, and sticking her nose in had done nothing but mess things up for her best friend. Not to mention, if Severus ever discovered that it had been she who had engineered the ruination of his potion – much less, her involving James Potter in such a betrayal – their friendship would be over.

The only thing that was finally able to bring her out of her dour mood was the arrival of Potter's much-anticipated Arcana tournament the following evening. Such was the popularity of the card game (or, perhaps, of Potter himself), that Gryffindors of all ages had handed over the two Galleon entrance fee for a chance to be crowned winner. And as much as Lily longed to win the sackful of gold that awaited the champion, something was driving her fervor for the game more than just her desire to buy herself an owl. Arcana was an old wizarding game, prized by purebloods despite the general lack of magical power inherent in playing it. To beat her classmates with generations of prized magical ancestry behind them – and to beat them with the help of some Muggle maths as Andrew had taught her – felt oddly serendipitous. She wanted to show them, once and for all, that she belonged as much as anybody.

The first game moved quickly, and Lily emerged victorious after just nine rounds, which was the fastest of any of the concurrent games. While she waited for the others to end, she watched Andrew's game, and had difficulty not cheering aloud for him when he threw down the Miss to steal the winning hand out from right under Davey Gudgeon's pair of knaves. Davey was a good sport, and took to commentating on the later-round games in much the same way he commentated the Quidditch matches.

Lily's next two contests were harder fought. In the first, she took out a fourth year called Sturgis Podmore along with Fiona Beal, who growled low in her throat and stomped away angrily when Lily's triple eights took the win. In the next match up, she found herself face to face with Garrison Walker, a sixth year, and Sirius Black. Garrison grimaced down at his hand for the entirety of the game and ignored Sirius's incessant quipping. When Lily bested them both by waiting for Sirius to overplay his ace, Garrison merely shrugged and Sirius let out a bark of a laugh.

"Does this mean I get to watch you go up against James, then?" he said, looking around at the other matches that were still in play. "Brilliant. Where's Gudgeon? He's got to have some side betting going on…"

Lily watched as Sirius got up in search of Davey, who was indeed playing oddsmaker while commentating the final hand of a nearby game.

And thus, Lily found herself playing for the championship against none other than James Potter, Andrew Adamsly, and a fifth year called Barrett Merriweather.

"Merriweather's not as seamless of a player as his brother Linus was, but he's tricky with the Miss if he gets her," Davey was detailing to the group of Gryffindors who had gathered around their table to watch. Andrew started the deal. "Of course, no one's surprised Potter made it this far – good at everything, he is. Adamsly's been taking all our money at Arcana for years…why should this be any different? And then we have Lily Evans, like a dive-bombing thestral, no one saw her coming. Don't give me that look Evans, it's just an expression! And Potter leads the first round with a measly six…clearly trying to dump his useless cards early…Evans and Adamsly follow suit…you'd think Merriweather would want to steal this one, but he cedes it to Potter…unusual to win an opener with a single six…we're in for a good one, lads…"

* * *

James Potter had a competitive spirit. He liked to win, and had rarely experienced any other outcomes in his fourteen years. He was a natural at near everything – from flying to Hogwarts lessons to making friends to chess – and Arcana had been no exception. But he had never played against Lily Evans before.

She was very distracting.

He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose, that thing with her lip, but he had lost an early hand because he had been so busy actively trying to _not look at her_ that he had failed to notice when Merriweather overtrumped him. Adamsly seemed to be managing better, the git, but James reckoned he had a fair bit of practice playing against Evans, as he was the one who had been training her for weeks. The injustice of this fact lingered in the back of James's mind, and he was so rankled by it that he nearly threw his kings too early.

Merriweather wasn't quite on the level of the other three, and Adamsly had been dealt several unlucky hands early that had almost certainly doomed him. Evans, though…Evans was good. She seemed to be better at counting or something than James was, though James, as per usual, had more natural talent, and was a bigger risk-taker with his cards than she was. He had been able to focus long enough to steal a hand out from under her with a pair of trump threes, and had kept his senses long enough to throw a useless eight when he knew she had to play the Miss. He only needed one more point…

But now she was doing that thing with her lip again and he couldn't remember for the life of him if the knaves had already been thrown…

They hadn't. She took the hand and won the round.

"Ha! Evans swipes it with a pair of knaves to keep the game alive!" said Davey Gudgeon from somewhere to the left of James, who chastised himself and kept his eyes glued to the cards that Adamsly was now dealing. "And Merriweather will lead them off. Tally is Potter, 6; Evans, 5; Adamsly, 2; Merriweather, 1. And it's still anyone's game…"

 _You're fine,_ James told himself. _You still just need the one point and you've won. Evans may take the first trick – yep, there she goes – but you've only got to take four…oh bloody hell…has her neck been exposed like that all night? Is she doing that on purpose?_

"If that was on purpose, that was brilliant," said Davey, and James's head snapped up to look at the self-appointed commentator. He was sitting atop one of the nearby tables, a head taller than the rest of the gathered crowd, his eyes glued to the cards thrown on the playing table. "Evans somehow knew Adamsly doesn't have any trump left and took the trick with trip-fours."

She took the next trick too, and the crowd was starting to grow louder in its support of her, but James stopped the bleeding and won the following. Merriweather looked for a moment like he might steal one out from under them, but Lily bested him with the Miss to take the hand.

"If anyone ever questioned whether Evans should be a Gryffindor, that should put your curiosity to rest," said Davey, who was now standing on the table in his excitement. "Throwing the little lady against a trump five takes goolies…which is ironic, I reckon, since she's the only one who hasn't got any…"

"Have you checked personally, Gudgeon?" called Sirius from somewhere behind James, and there was a swell of laughter.

 _It was all well and good for them, making jokes_ , thought James, as he tried and failed to avoid looking up at the redhead across from him. _They weren't trying to win a bloody tournament against a witch who had clearly cast some sort of magnetic spell over them…_

"And Evans takes the next to make it five-up," shouted Davey, much to the interest of the onlookers. James could feel the crowd push in around him. All he had to do was block her from one of the final two tricks and he'd still have a chance…

But James knew what was about to happen before it did. Adamsly led with a pair of eights and he had to follow suit with his tens. Lily was able to easily overtrump them both, leaving her to lead the final trick…

Lily threw her final card, a trump seven, and grinned triumphantly. Merriweather rolled his eyes and folded. Adamsly laughed and tossed a useless four atop the seven. James cursed. The queen in his hand was useless against her trump.

There was an uptick in noise as the gathered Gryffindors cheered and commented to one another on the game. Davey was upping the drama by waving his arms and hollering, "Evans wins, Evans wins! Evans takes the crown!" over the rest of them. Sirius was trying to pull Davey off the table to get him to pay up on his side bets. Merriweather muttered a gruff, "Good game," and then stomped away, while Adamsly was buoyed off by a group of laughing friends.

James and Lily were left for a moment at the table alone. For the first time since the match had started, he allowed himself to meet her gaze. She was grinning victoriously.

"How'd you know?" he asked her, reaching across the table to gather the strewn cards.

"Know what?"

"That I had busted trump."

"Ah." She leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes mischievously at him. "Probability, I guess."

"Probability?" he repeated, amazed. "You were counting from the start?"

"It's not cheating…"

"I didn't say it was."

"I was just being observant. I had the final two trump after Merriweather threw the five. That's why I brought out the Miss so early. I pay attention to these things, you know."

James stared at her for long enough that her cheeks reddened. This pulled him out of his daze and he reached under his chair for the bag of Galleons that he had stored there at the beginning of the evening. He slid it across the table to her.

"Forty-two Galleons," James said. "You can do the maths, if you want. Apparently you're good at it."

"That's all right," said Lily, taking the sack and standing up from the table. "I trust you."

"You do?" he asked, surprised.

She paused, as though mulling her answer over, as the Balini sisters, Raeanne, and Goomer all made their ways over to congratulate her. "Not really," she told him over her shoulder. "But I'll at least wait to count it until I'm in the dormitory."

And with that, she was ushered off in a swell of chatter and laughter, and James knew, without a doubt, that he had to admit what Sirius had been telling him for months…

That he, James Potter, had fallen (painfully, desperately, hopelessly) for Lily Evans.

* * *

It was strange, but after all the drama and worrying of the last several weeks, winning the house-wide Arcana tournament caused Lily to feel, not happiness, exactly, but relief. As her friends congratulated her, she felt as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she didn't believe it had anything to do with the sackful of Galleons that had just been handed to her.

"…amazing, the way you knew exactly when to throw trump," Kaia Balini was saying to her over the general din of the common room. "You'll have to teach me, Lily!"

"You can't teach good luck," said a male voice from behind her, and Lily spun around, her stomach dropping a bit. Andrew was standing very close to her, grinning from ear to ear. "And clearly that's the only way you could've beaten me that badly…pure, dumb luck."

Relieved to see that he was only joking, Lily tilted her head and said with feigned sincerity, "If only I had had a better teacher to impart their knowledge on me, perhaps I could have beaten you all in fewer hands."

This caused Andrew to laugh deeply, his eyes twinkling as they watched her. "Congratulations," he said, dropping the joke. "In all honesty, I didn't stand a chance that round. I'm glad you won."

"Thanks," Lily said. From the side of her eye, she noticed Adin and Kaia sneak away, giggling. She shifted the bag of gold awkwardly between her hands, and then remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot…"

From inside the sack, she extracted two gold Galleons, which she held out for Andrew, but he did not take. "Your entrance fee," she reminded him. "I told you if I won, I'd pay you back your entrance fee, though I reckon you deserve a lot more than that for spending so much time helping me…"

He still did not take the gold from her, but grinned and shook his head. "Keep it. It's been fun, spending time with you."

Lily felt herself go red. "Really," she said, trying again to give him the money. "A deal's a deal…"

"I tell you what," he offered, raising his hands in submission but still not accepting the Galleons. "Buy me a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks during the next Hogsmeade visit, and we'll call it even."

"Oh," said Lily. She awkwardly dropped the coins back in the bag, her head suddenly feeling rather light. "All right, then."

Andrew's grin widened. He looked down at the floor momentarily, and then back at her again. "And, I reckon, if you're going to be buying me a drink, it'd probably make sense for me to buy you lunch."

"I reckon so," Lily replied, her voice a bit faint. She wondered if this was some sort of dream.

"And," he continued, "if we're having butterbeer together and eating lunch together, we might as well, you know, walk down to the village together. Maybe go round and visit some of the shops together as well?"

Her nerve caught up to her. "Andrew…are you asking me to Hogsmeade?"

He chuckled a bit and shrugged. "It makes logical sense, what with you having to buy me a butterbeer and all. I mean…if you're feeling…logical…"

And with that, she couldn't help but laugh as she nodded. "All right. I'll go to Hogsmeade with you. Who am I to resist…logic…after all?"

"Brilliant. I don't think the next visit's been scheduled yet, but I'll see you round before then, yeah?"

"Sounds good," she replied, completely unprepared for what came next. Though, to be fair, nothing could have prepared her for his lips brushing against her cheek, nor for the electricity she felt at the contact. When he straightened back up, he was also blushing, and Lily was almost glad when he walked away, as she was worried that her legs might not hold her up for much longer.

And with that, she knew that, she, Lily Evans, had fallen (wonderfully, magically, hopelessly) for Andrew Adamsly.


End file.
